a place called nowhere

creatures looking
for sin gather

circle each other
smell each other
taste each other

the air is thick with sound
and tight leather wears itself

the little birds are quiet
they perch on

their stools

wanting action
too scared to act

they move as if
they want to dance

they are trapped in
their own heads

some of the creatures
find what they are looking for

others leave alone
the little birds pick

up the scraps