The Paramount

Young men are slow-walking,
drunk, past the Paramount

a few tumbles into their
whisky nights,

attempting to quantify
their mistakes

as one tallies up a bill
and settles it.

Everyone's singing
of throwing I-Ching
these days, darling,

but for you because you
sing of nothing

but an ashtray and falling to sleep
still-spectacled.

Have you never noticed
the blooming dancer?

She certainly can
can-can.