3329. I HAVE A BRIGHT BLUE DRAGON, RIDING HERE IN MY LIBELOUS EYES

I HAVE A BRIGHT BLUE 
DRAGON, RIDING HERE

 IN MY LIBELOUS EYES

From Newark they took the medallion.

The ruinous locals would steal everything

here, where Dutch Schultz and Lewie Lesko's

final soliloquies were written on blood on

the chophouse walls. Miranda died, and the

ghost tavern still has the drunks on the side;

they wait every morning for nothing, at a

tavern that is no more. The lastly God-damned

hookers stand outside and hawk with pride.

The tiny Italian, I heard him say - 'I'm ok now.

I've had my fix for the day.' Plucking olives

from the rosebush bed, reading secrets at

the gorge  -  Newark to Clifton to Paterson

and back. Such makes a day, and that is that.

(And oh, this all works beautifully. I have a

bright blue dragon riding here in my libelous eyes).