Golden Geese

There might not be magic Or magnificent descents Beyond the obvious suspense of the flesh There's physics on the court And in assembly of notes Scribbled plucked or in a flask Like a hint of smoke The hungover sounds Of a trombone and a curdled clown Who happens to look a lot like me There's strangers on the lake Dwindling real estate The prices are high but shadows dance for free On blackboards And tired bleachers Terrified and stoned Manhattan eyes and chunky cheekbones By the pinball machine Hangs a painting of a backstage queen With golden geese And corsets unraveling On the edges of the frame A flaking date and a nickname A signature rasping on the wing I do intend to be a better man A companion when Sundays come around Bars close fast We're always last to go We'd switch to gasoline if it killed us slow On blackboards and tired bleachers Terrified and stoned Manhattan eyes and chunky cheekbones Chilled glass of wine and a wilted yellow rose The cards are dealt and flimsy as mechanical moans