at a set low evening

                                    (longlean evening)

                                     the city is let out
                                                                  
                                     a distilled yowl

                                     frothing neon
      
                                     glib determined

                                     for skin and the svelte curl of a girl's lips
                                     as i pass her on the street and my lids
                                     flick a smart wink on every inch of
                                     legs sprouted of a waist curved
                                     right at the nicest angle
                                     carving the pallid air
                                     in a short skirt
                                     and has a
                                     mouth
                                     i'd like to get inside of curling on my asIpass wink