Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Red Glow of Pardise South, Eric Bachman and Singleton 2007

Neon lights burning:
Red hot and electric
they never close down
fall down, burn out
they never do lie
except to the city;
red glare, she cries.

The neon lights click
on and on, clinking
even with the dark
thinking, tinking
on abandoned streets
of the long after hour
craze and shuffle home

Red lights glaring like
moonlight and bloodstone
in the see-through rays
of the old rising sun,
burning her face bronze
her lunch-time squint;

(Don't frown--
you'll get wrinkles)

The neon lights buzz
on through the night.

The neon lights lie
to the city so wide
as the jukebox dies
it lies in plain sight.


singleton said...

She courtsies
and beckons
to the highway rollers
the evening strollers
the "I just left my wife this morning"ers,
with her eyes wide open
And they believe....
for a quarter in the jukebox...
your dime, my time
24 hours is enough

Because she told them so....

eric1313 said...

told them a dime
a beer
a skate
a stroll
or stone-skip throw
is all it takes

to win a heart

step right up
if you think
you've got
what it takes.

eric1313 said...

to win a night
at the Pardise South

or keep the dream
for yourself

as she walks on by.

eric1313 said...

Yeah, that's a keeper...


singleton said...

clink! tink!

singleton said...

I gotta tell ya something funny....when I bopped over to the bar tonight, the everynight cinderella was flashing....And I thought, wow! I don't remember the lights going on and off! How cool! And then, well, you know, it doesn't......Spooky cool, though, huh? And of course, I always think that means something....when something weird happens.....

eric1313 said...

That sure does sound weird! (I wish she'd do that right now! What an effect... that would be perfect if the star winked at us on and off...)

singleton said...

she does!

The Butterfly Bar said...

She courtsies
and beckons
to the highway rollers,
the evening strollers--
the "I just left my wife this morning"ers.

With her eyes wide open
they believe....
do they ever believe
the fire in her eyes,
is more than reflected desire...

Told them a dime
a beer
a skate
a stroll
or stone-skip throw
is all it takes

to win any heart.

Step right up
if you think
you have
what it takes,
a quarter for the jukebox...
your dime, my time
believe that
24 hours is enough.

Because she told them so....

Told them how to win a night
at the Pardise South.

Told them how to keep the dream
for herself.

as she walks on by.

Forever is just a day dream,
the enchantment--
her heart's true name
scribbled on an timeless picture
in her gilded locket.

The Butterfly Bar said...

There there she is,

Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down

I like it. Aschenputtle is the German name for Cinderella, or 'maiden of ashes'.

I'm banking her.

Princess Pointful said...

I feel as though I am interrupting something profound....
... with those red lights ever presently watching me, and all that goes on in the city, silent and unjudging.

Shrink Wrapped Scream said...

Hey singleton, I've only ever met you in the hippy parade before..

I love your mind, so deep yet irreverent, finding beauty in the minute details - your posts sparkle girl, a mirror reflection of their creator..

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

The last verse made me think of a wurlitzer lying on it's back in an alley, with a record slowly dying in its speakers.

singleton said...

the door is always open, it swings
wide and high and low
and the lights on
the inside
24 hours
of neon

Welcome.... to The Butterfly Bar and all the scribbled coasters, napkins, tables, walls....
clink! to the drink of your choice and magic markers everywhere

singleton said...

Eric....that came together perfect,
Forever is just a trinket
and she collects
train flattened dimes
telephone numbers
to lost names
ticket stubs
For sale signs
and Rent Me signs
stringing them
on woven broken
glow sticks
draped around
her neck....
Paradise South on a string

singleton said...

Shrink.....:)Well, we thought the best way to get everyone together for a drink was to build a corner bar! So ta!dah! Here she is! Welcome, Girl!

Ultra....I can see that perfectly! Hear it's scratchy, throaty story playing on, dying in the dirt.....
And in the morning,
the vultures,
the garbage pickers
prying out his heart
searching for the
45 that'll bring
a dime on
stealing his soul
for a second
chance at
Paradise South in their
dank little living rooms.....

eric1313 said...


You are interrupting nothing. Thank you for the visit. I'm just glad to have more people see this. We write this stuff to be shared.


Good to see you here. This is one heck of a place to throw down lines and relax.

It's no hippie parade, but it has it's own character.

Ultra Toast

That's a perfect and poetic description, all by itself.

The music fades and every wonders as if in a dream if the sun will rise again, if the world will ever wake up again.

Thanks for the visits, everyone.