On a hazy August evening
cruising across the harbour
on the bridge to the sky.
Lights dance in the distance.
The smell of salt water and car exhaust
And the deep fryers scent
fries long gone cold.
The sound of the Hip
echoes against the pavement
The paddy wagon cruises slowly by
Not tonight boys, I yell
and grind my cigarette deep into
the cracks of concrete unsettled
and we dance down another street
cobbled and crooked.
Coffee at the wave on the waterfront,
strong enough to blister through
the surreal buzz of the netherworld
while I catch up on summer romances
written against the crest, lipstick and spray paint.
Seems ol’ Frances didn’t love him as much
As he thought, broken hearted
we dance back up to the Deuce
where music touches your soul
and skinheads touch other things
in dark pool rooms
where the punks only tolerate them
So long, so long ago
When the city was exciting
And nothing to be feared
Would laugh at me now
Much the same, as I laugh at me then.
It’s Saturday! And that means it’s time for Poetics at dVersePoets. Honestly, when Claudia gave the call to go urban…my mind blanked. Add to that a busy afternoon…and all I had to rely on was some tattered old memories, from what seems like so long ago. Halifax has a ton more to offer by way of history and culture…but those Friday Nights…late summer….those were the best!
So the tune came later than ’95….but I thought it fitting! And we are poets…so we’ll have no trouble picturing this taking place at the now no more Misty Moon, on Barrington Street. 🙂