Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

It used to be only a short walk to Babylon
Two flights down and around the corner

In the afternoon
The veterans would sit, as veterans do
In the dust of wars in the corner booth
Beneath a ceiling fan turning too slow
To rearrange the smoke of their lives

Evening brought the boisterous young pagans
To play eight ball for beers with more vigor than skill
On the flat green plain where Gilgamesh
Once slew Anu, the great Bull of Heaven

The priestesses, gaunt beauties all
Would start to drift in at eleven, open to worship
Open to offerings and yours for the evening
If you had coke in your pocket, or they liked
The taste of the snakeoil you sold

Then, there was Ishtar, madness that swayed
Who wore her gloves full length and fingerless
And liked the night wrapped tightly around her

But, Babylon has drifted away, or I have
The journey there can no longer be measured
Merely in steps, the depth of dust
Or the smooth length of fingerless gloves

The distance is now hidden in the rings of trees
The sons of trees, and in the ancestral memories
Of insects who practiced their husbandry
In the Gardens that hung there




Editors note..Olde Towne Tavern, circa 1983

Yeah, I was there I think.....

I liked this very much raggedy..
H