a dry rain falls
like dust
at least that’s what they call it in seattle
a dry rain
cold
damp
touching to the bone
i turn a corner onto a street of dreams
eyes watch me move past construction debris
watch
me
am I the one
watch me
make my way
through a judgment free zone
of hope
is he the one
for
me
a dry rain falls
like dust
each drop resounding
separately
in a thunderous roar of silence
mirroring my foot steps
“Hello, hey Joe
You wanna give it a go?”
La Belle
La Belle
space angles from another time
recall the Creole Lady Marmalade’s
“Gitchi gitchi ya ya here”
a dry rain falls
like dust
black umbrellas erupt
like fields of dandelion puffs
in spring time
shielding portals to the soul
but who’s soul
ask me no questions
i’ll tell you no lies
“Gitchi gitchi ya ya da da
Gitchi gitchi ya ya here”
the work is hard
it takes its toll
beauty fades in the shadows
but it matters not
just take your pleasure
prove your masculinity
move on up the hill to the next
stiletto heels
blonde wigs
and somewhat questionable femininity
intice
incite
invite
delights
of the moment
but this is a judgment free zone
and she live in hope
is he the one
for
me
a dry rain falls
like
the dust of disappointment
i am not the one
i move on
up the hill
on this street of dreams
while Ornette Coleman’s Mona Lisa
dances in my head