New York neon highlighted boxer days.
We danced inside and out the sidewalk zombies.
Cool pavement touched our toes.
We had holes in our shoes.
Love trickled from our lips.
Droplets created tributaries down our chests.
Life chased us from block to block.
Us with holes in our shoes.
A bottle of wine between your teeth.
You performed the wire on the top of a bar.
Damn lickers looked up the hole in the back of your jeans.
And us with holes in our shoes.
Our salty rainbow hats lent edge to the curbs.
Damned dramatic were our quick smiles.
Ah, we cursed the wind as it blew smoke in our eyes.
Us unable to see the holes in our shoes.
Do you remember Hoffie and Marlaine?
We sent them into fashion fits.
Then sailed down the banister.
Landing lightly on the holes in our shoes.
And what of Klien's soft dance party?
That positively spaced tramp found us "positively darling!"
You licked the cloth that covered her breast.
Then we skipped away with holes in our shoes.
Oh screw! Now to tell the sad.
The black tale of blue Monday.
Of winters sad betrayal.
And you with new black boots.
And I was left alone with holes in my shoes.