Friday Night

Dying moth dancers beat against the light
as fat bass rhythms spill out of the bars,
faces raised in hope tumble through the night

Red eyed girls straighten their Friday night tights,
cradle broken heart songs splayed on guitars.
Dying moth dancers beat against the lights

Boy-men drunk on heat and rum lurch, fall, fight,
strut, cats in season, denim jaguars.
Dying moth dancers beat against the light

Wine tossed lovers drown in the other’s sight
fumble bad lies, press their bodies against cars.
Faces raised in hope tumble through the night.

Fragile dreams unfold, colored glass wings might
Spiral lovers gasped breaths up to the stars.
Dying moth dancers beat against the light
Faces raised in hope tumble through the night.