Bleeker Street Poem by guillermo veloso

Setting across the beastie midnight asphalt sea
Sifting through the Bleeker Street sands for
Bones, blues, top hat hobos, heroin concierge and gourmet drifters
Darting in and out of the street light klieg
Cherry top strobe and pizza stand whores
My cab ascends to the rafters
While the tequila meanders through this
Valley of sad stories like a nosey aunt
Listening and pursing its lips.
Angels, demons, saints and rogues, misfit Argonauts
Look the same to
Democratic night; color blind and indifferent to light

In search of stillness
Poets cast nets here and sit quiet for their catch
A moment here a moment there
Until stories rustle and struggle in the pen’s firm hold
But the night is a slave to time and desire
Unsatisfied, it can never accept the day and
Once spent, like a rose
It folds unto itself, unfulfilled.
Longing for more but
Never enough
Still never enough