City-Scape Gentlemen's Club, Queens Poem by Ernest Hilbert

For BK

Keys splash in the toilet bowl and clank
Dully on the brown-smudged porcelain throat,
A cloudy silver quiver. The tiny blades
Swim through ripples. He leans on the tank
And reaches into the gleaming pearly moat.
The diamond sprint and spark of cocaine fades.
The deep bass whump of the strip club's system
Shivers the magic pool's surface. He pulls
The keys out, shakes them. So much for his hit.
He lurks. A drink appears. The new rhythm
Is sinister. Perfume and glitter swamp the air, lull
Him like lotus leaves or bee song. He should quit.
He should go. The others fade off. They're through.
A downy black reaches through light to blue.