Non-Prophets of Nashville

Timmy Abegs and I
Rode the moon down to Second Avenue
Eyes clear and heads light
Filled with universal glimmering
Shell fish and Po-boys from
Across the street at that seafood dive
Deb Rhodes always arrived on time
In her tribal robes
Of midnight blue
And darkened eyes of gypsy relish
We all smiled and sleeped inside
Of the flat across from Norman Ray's
Photography den
The lines of models curving up about
Of the stairwell
Like a science fiction cornocupia from an
Orsin Welles film, unfinished…