won't carry her prayer any faster.
Beautiful and blessed Saint Creola,
paint me a center line--
press a macadam pavement from every heart I ever carried between breath and skin;
give me, I pray, strong coffee and a name I can keep.
Outside Danny's Coffee Shop,
cranes contracted by the city manager raise the sun.
He would like to zone Danny's out of existence,
but it is as if God Herself were against him;
seven plagues have sogged his cereal
and set his ties to clash.
Midnight Jane, stay as long as you like.
Danny's is always open, even on a Sunday.
Margie, the city manager's wife, didn't get The Light sprayed on her blonde
directly from the Hand of The Divine;
she just lets on as if she did.
Jane, try the arms of the Succubus.
There, in a quiet corner booth,
it can always be night as smooth as new blacktop
and the stars that flash by like lane markers
belong to anyone.
This is my 1200th post at Word Garden!