dreaming and making and drinking

shooting breeze in an alley
with a couple dalmations
caught the pretty disease
from a dirty carnation
pinned up from a flower
on a dead man's lapel
six inches from you
half-way to hell
one foot than another
embarrassed and stumbling from the bar
listless buildings pull me closer
like planets about a star
in the middle of creating
my own stellar constellations
no dust or gas or paint
only interpersonal relations
not listening just hearing
can't see but never sleeping
treading through shallow words
to where the conversation deepens