Pool Hall Hustlers
Like pool hall hustlers, they gathered at night.
Some twinkled dimly, some shone bright.
I could only stand and stare.
I'll make a punk sing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star",
said a shimmering blowhard way up thar,
only to be outdone by a shooting star,
but the sun wasn't anywhere.
Or, so, to me, it did not seem
until Big Sol shot a beam
that bounced off of the moon above,
then off a blue-green orb's dark sea,
into four open eyes that did not see,
reflecting from me to you, you to me,
as we fell in the hole of love.
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