Poetry In Motion

Persuasive Parisian nights
Result in permissive morning touch
Electrical 60 cycle memories, result in 50 cycle sweat
La amour tends to be clichés in time
Bodies moving in simulated and virtual rhyme
Night falls with the traffic coming in lighted rows
Made more beautiful with drug-laced shine
We just need to find cover by the hotel
The doorman nods,he knows all too well
Electronica music thunders with profound precision
A midget with a surly expression, suddenly allows us our turn
So we dance like rockets on re-entry burn
Moving with abandon to the light accordion/spinning tracks
The world around us melts into pools of disjointed book stacks
Suddenly we find ourselves in a library, a co-sponsored illusion
Running up and down the aisles
Spinning to our own chaos/string theory
Feet pounding to certain shared mathematical collusion
Running bare-foot through the park
Staring at each other through sleep-deprived eyes
Strange likenesses stare back at us
Why are holidays as short as lies?
The cars pass by with the indifference of high-priced gas
We walk through the airport, like ghosts on an ethereal rampage
Holding each other for support, we are as transparent as glass
Soon we’ll be back home, America the beautiful, at least that's what she told us
Get out with your tight dress on, your make up on the floor
Pouring over scotch and pictures of our last overseas date
Until next we can afford that deep internet rate.