Dango

Tangle the Heart

The drizzle, this downpour, all my feelings
once so solid, even crusty, now the jelly
center of some doughnut, this city
that sends people scurrying here and there,
women, beautiful and not, on errands
to find, and tangle the heart.

You`re the Money

If you want me to speak, then feed me
don`t stand around, I`m a commodity
and demand to be treated as such

if you want a feel, a touch, it`ll cost you but
it won`t cost you much

I`d be happy to do it for free, if you were my type
the kind in the magazines, tall, dark and vacant
you know, much better than this scene

I`ll get there and then... you say you want to buy me
one of those wee bottles of champagne?
that`s sweet, well cheers daddy,
bottoms up!

I mean really, you are one of the more interesting
guys whose come through this town

Who`m I fooling, you are the most handsome, dark
and vacant stranger I`ve seen in a good long while

and no, I certainly don`t mind your hand creeping up
my ass, thats what hands are for, you creep...
I mean you poor gentleman, `scuse me
my words are all coming out...

ummm ah yeah, i don`t mind it, umm yeah it is a little wet
just ah don`t get we started, I`m ummm ah

Just a little bit more, k, we`re almost there, yeah I mean the bottle
it`s down to the suds, we`re ready for another

or are you ready for the road? it`s either one or the other,
yes it feels good, yes I`m your honey

the Ladies of Chiba

They walk in groups of three
their voices artificially high
and full of projected joie-de-vivre

The others butter what one proclaims
with appreciative ehs and ahs...

The ensemble is matched, two with hats
and one with full umbrella to protect
from the sun, though it`s early November
and the light is soft on the ground.

google

these are the bulk of my paltry hits
`roppongi, massage , girl`
`sexy blonde showing tits`
`half white half philipino`
`fenway girls flashing tits`

with itchy fingers I`m sure they dont linger
to read philosophical bits

should I add a few pictures
and market a site for dimwits?

felt path to wide pockets

There`s something about a billiard table
with faded felt, deep pockets, sucks down
those balls like a vacuum, old and wood vintage
maybe 50 years the make, now down the stairs
in roppongi bar Milwaukee, the solidity of the oak
dominating the small room, a cutaway cue
for those tight corners, a half-Phillipina bartender
who doubles as a hostess in some cheap
karaoke joint, downs drinks with the customers
gains advantages in games by showing her tits
and gives out free shots of mentholated spirits,
sometimes instead of sheep I dream of balls
entering those wide pockets
with a nice reassuring thud.

roppongi kicks

What is it about the Tokyo night life
late night delerium of Roppongi
which despite its obvious pitfalls attracts
massage girls and african hustlers
passing and wheedling passerbys without
a smile or acknowledgement, twin worlds
collide and intersect imperfectly, dolled up
late 20`s Japanese thrill seekers, looking for what?
sleazy sex and promised american underworld thrills
without the danger of Big City New York,
American hayseed soldiers getting drunk and drunker
shouting their straightforward small town inanities
to the money intoxicated night
the flash of club owners, cars passing, Mercedes and BMW
Inebriated, I dance in the overcrowded afterhours disco
feeling up a half brazilian beauty who looks straight direct
her black sillhouette, feeling undeniably attracted to the
soft curves of her body, a moth going for its last flame