Motown mojo hops down Through speakers, While neon lights Flash smiles. A cool, green liquid sits, Untouched in a lean glass.
Mellow lights give The place a quiet class. Amid the pulse of an After-midnight entourage, The clamor of Celebratory laughs.
What’s going on?
Two birds fly by On the way down South, Where dancing tunes Can be heard, If you listen just right.
Down there, it’s a maze. I’d rather stay up here, And park myself In a trouble-free simplicity, Letting my mind wander… Off the beat.
A shift.
Gazing out the window, And past a yawn, The fuel of the night Is far from gone, Because I can dig Marvin anywhere.
My attention predictably Short-lived, I become engrossed By a bead of dark whiskey, Which lies upon a neighboring seat (An elegantly tall bar stool, Probably made from a cherry tree). And it’s there I am reminded, It’s always been the night I seek.