Treasury Casino, 3:03 am. Monday morning.

Casino bars shut at  3:00 am in QLD.


I missed a place to sleep by 9 minutes.
My timing is impeccable.

2 hours to kill until the last train home.

An older man in a slate suit enters stage right.
Crosses.
Disappears.
Reenters stage left with  brass buttons
lit up like embers.

The 9 network wants me to buy
stonedine frying pans.
And warns me about harmful gasses that have killed household budgies.

I wish I was more interesting.

You havent lived
until you've seen a man blow a pancake
off a frying pan.
Onto a plate.

----

3:12 am.

Late night bar personnel work in silence
cleaning beer nozzles and coffee machines.
They wander in and out of the scene under sophisticated lighting.

I wonder what to do about you, and what I'm feeling.
What our  hold on each other is and when (if) the sword of Damocles will fall.
Is this truly tragedy to which we are destined?
I shudder to think.
And for this am I classed by the title
"coward"
or
"lover"?

----

3:20 am - Existentialism strikes a vicious blow. No coup de grace.

The blackjack dealer on the $15  table has a gorgeous face that makes me wonder how her body feels on a post coital morning. Satisfied and relaxed, taut through anticipation of further pleasure?
Straight raven tresses frame a heart shaped face that peers over the ridge of a white collared shirt, sprouting from beneath a black vest, tight at the elbows.
She deals with deft machine-gun efficiency. Not all bullets hit their mark here.

Her back curves with natural elegance down to a tight, young ass. The shape of  it magnified by the black business pants writes itself as a factory on my mind. Light hands would fit well there, one on each cheek, her mouth open seductively, trading  tastes and sensations.

There is a dying rose in my lapel.
It's sad.
I contemplate leaving it somewhere poetic but  cant think of a place.
The thorns are still sharp.

----

3:45 am

The only place where time is invincible
is a place  where it is hidden.
Casino's are such a place.
Here time cannot be killed.
Yet I have smuggled it in.

The silent street erupted around me the moment I sat down,
a thunder rumbles in the distance
but only reveals a passing truck.

The white swan drifts past
without elegance.

I watch the youths drive by on fish lane
as the silent score of stoplights
play to an impersonal audience-
tonight the pizzicato is on time.

----

The air is dense with quiet conversation
of nighthawks
and the splash  of luck
on a steel  tray.

Elegant servants of style remove the unwanted things.

12:30
The air has cleared,
alone again
with two fat asians.

When did boring become stylish?

GET ME OUT  OF HERE!!

"It is truly a free nation that offers pancakes 24/7"

----

Normally, the solitude of wandering a sleeping city would elicit poetry.
Tonight only nothing comes out.

Not the people nor the smells or secret music. Only the flicker  of a dying neon sun assuring me,
that the parking is open.

----

1:00 am.

A woman in a pink burkha enters a white car, only to be driven off into the night, followed by two taxis.

There are ancient trees twisting their tops through the modern facade. For eras, much like fashion are discarded by finicky time.

They have stood as silent sentinels for longer than I have breathed, and with any hope, they will stand as soldiers long after I  come to pass. These reminders of the ravages of time.

I loved a girl who lived  here once.
She lived in an apartment that overlooked the city
and had  breasts like two soft moons
that tasted like honey.

1:40 am.

Other nighthawks wander as wastrels through the quiet Autumn night,
with a slow, soft  gait one never see's in the rush of day.
If all evenings carried a beat, it would be thus:
a slow jazz drum.

"...psssssh-bop! pssssh-bop! pssssh-bop!...."
would sound the echo of every evening heart
throbbing slow with power.
"...psssssh-bop! pssssh-bop!..."

The car's carry  white  blood cells to  the  suburban arteries.
Taxi's are cancer.

I walk
northbound.

----

Cold beer at 2am.

Faintly lit menagerie
an open cage containing
nighthawks.

Well spoken Eastern girls
corporate white boys
two old tradesmen,
one on a smartphone with a rosary around his soft large neck.
The antique street curves away toward the river,
sloping up
then down
I follow it with my eyes.


And run them back
to the fairylights.
They hang like glowworms
or constellations.

Glowworms hang like constellations, the inside of their cave  is the same fleeting feeling of being alone with the universe, it being caressed by your eyes.
For you are its lover and its mirror.
Inside the glowworm cave, I felt like the universe and everything reflected  itself in miniature. That to look upon their hanging, blue stars you saw everything else.

Elegant her mind was,
the beauties of
death,
blood,
sadness.

Elegant her skin was,
scared,
tarnished.

Elegant her thoughts were,
pills,
blade,
noose,
jump.

Elegant she was,
or every one thought she was.

Her real elegance didn't show through ger every day life,
only to those who wanted to hear,
and those that wanted to hear were
the demons.

Her elegance, in the end
is what destroyed her,
leaving the truth behind,
she wasn't so elegant after all.

Met an old friend A
He says women are the greatest vocabulary
AWESOME , AMAZING , ARDENT, ARDAMANT
And Look what B has to say
BEAUTIFUL, BRILLIANT, BODACIOUS most women are
CHARMING, CALM, CAUTIOUS, COURTEOUS
Women are THE FINEST DIAMONDS in the sky
Complements D, DASHING, DEAR, and DILIGENT to be exact
EASTERN ELEGANCE, Western ELITES
ENERGETIC, ELEGANT, EMOTIONAL
E is right women are EXTRAORDINARY
FLAMBOYANT, FUN, FUNNY, FANTASTIC F says
Women are central FIGURE of FAMILY
G- GREAT, GRACEFUL, GENTLE
H- HAPPY, HELPFUL, HANDY
INTERESTINGLY some women are IMPATIENT

JOYFUL they are, K- head of KISSES
LOVING, LOVEABLE
MARVELOUS symbol of MODESTY
NEAT, NOBLE and very NICE
Women are pretty ORNAMENT

women are PRICELESS PRINCESS
Women are QUEEN
Women are RARE gift
main source of SURVIVAL the human being

women have true spirits of love

women are a peaceful UMBRELLA

women are the VALLEY of love

women are WONDERFUL WATER,

women are XOXO

women are egg YOLK, bad cholesterol but you eat THEM
last but not least

ZEALOUS women have great ZEAL

Whatever dude.
You're probably just some too cool sports chick
But all your amazing elegance what is it really worth to me ?
You've got dates with stars and magazines and people I just see on TV
I've just got dirty dishes and laundry to clean

Yes I surf a lot and yes I used to everyday
But now I have all these words in my head
If I don't write them down they don't go away
So surfing means more to me than anything
And I crave the balance the ocean brings
Since I've been broken about two years
I paddle less and write more to deal with everything


Hey CC boarder you seemed cool but you're laggin
You see I got a spot for a surf partner or something more
If you'd just start paddlin...

-Azrael Always James
© Copyright 2013

I don’t need all this fuckin shit.  Fuck you. Fuck elegance. Fuck arrogance. Fuck your infinitely vast reserve of information ultimately leading to information that already existed elsewhere and is already being over-looked, ignored, or forgotten by the hopelessly absorbent reader.  Fuck what you think. Fuck what you believe. You’ll end up thinking in circles, cooking up what you’ve already thought, but this time in a different flavor.  And you’ll believe the next person who makes eye contact with you for longer than 15 seconds at a time.  Fuck your pen-pals.  Update your status on a personal basis because if only 3 people care then what the fuck do you care what the other 697 believe? Fuck you all. I fucking hate you.  A bunch of snot-nosed-screaming-and-kicking-malignant-fucking-tumors spreading ignorant fucking rumors.  Fuck your fear. Fuck your fucking plague that spreads nearly as quickly and in no way as apparently as the oil in our water. Fuck oil. Fuck assurances and insurances, you’re all liable to be unreliable.  We’re all fucking lie-able and don’t waste half a second proving that. Fuck what you hear, fuck what you wear, fuck what you think is right, and especially what you find to be fair.  Fuck every part of your own body to purge the incessant urge you have to fuck every one elses’ with your ever-inflamed-self-absorbing-perversion-convulsions.  Fuck Me, Fuck You, Fuck Yourself.

Your nakedness is sheep-milk-pale
Tendons tightened.
I know its roadside roots,
The elegance of the smoking country.
Wilderness can conjure up its track
Where your sun-starved throat
Is exposed by the waves.
I know that inaccessible continent.
All the places keep hanging from your face
A sad emptiness.

Eggs are good with toast and butter, but the
beep of your microwave might take you out of your
serious, tedious, “over-coffee” thoughts.

Democracy, decisions, discretion and depression,
eerie thoughts scramble your tiny little head,
effortlessly. Banish them. Don’t worry you, you, you…

Jeez, what would I even call you, myself. It’s like I need
a change to figure out something so set in stone.
i need to be somewhere else, this house is to

Jagged and rough for me to pretend to like anymore.
cayman islands sounds good but—
elegance should come easy in my own home.

Emily.
ended bad, remember?
oh, wow, real bad. Don’t think about her,

Peaceful as she was, there are probably
cuter out there.
are you sure?

Establish some confidence in your
tea. She said she didn’t like my taste in tea. What did
you do for me, Emily?! Nothing!

V. Emily V…. what was her last name?
double-yous, two of you… would be unbearable. You were
excellent at everything terrible, you know that.

Why oh why, coffee and eggs? You always make me think. Get married in a ga-
zeebo? No chance in hell.

I have a friend who
Shines brighter
Loves stronger
Dreams bigger
Than most.

But this blinding star
Suffocates her radiance
Refuses to let the candle eat itself away
And she dwells in the comfort of midnight
The brighest eclipse

Because the truth is
She’s saving her beauty
To give to one who is the color of sky right before dawn
She gravitates toward shadows
And lights up only for the darkness

Now she has found her counterpart
He illuminates her world
Unveils her hidden spark
And uses it to ignite an inferno
But he battles a legion of demons
Trapped in a deadly war against himself

Only he can awaken her
His vibrant smile erasing her mask of smoke
And only she can save him
The blaze in her eyes conquering the monsters that creep in the corners of his mind

Some may think it’s sad
That they only burn together
When no one else is around to see

And others say it’s dangerous
That their intense blend of passion and pain could destroy the universe

But I think it is perfect
For their love has captured
The elegance of charcoal
And the purity of ivory
On a single canvas

So I guess it’s true
That night is the one true love of day
Too much darkness can be deadly
But too much light can burn you away