The dark streets of Venice

Here on the sweating black pavement,

Reflecting moonshined thoughtwinds

Of passersby 

Drunk and stumbling,

Reaching into empty pockets

Hoping for a fix

To calm the shakes,

Here on the stage

Set by serpents

Wearing suits, with silver tongues,

Here in that space between moments

Where and when the city’s eyes

Are drooped enough to be unfocused,

The deep dark hole 

That lies beneath all men

Will sweetly call

And ask you for a kiss.