it's 2am in Denmark and
    the streets look like polaroids

outside a Delicatessen I see
 you at a table nursing a glass of scotch -
                            under the soft glow of the
gas lit lamps
        its color matches the brilliance
  of your golden hair

           I take a sip of bitter Danish coffee
while you turn to look my way
  and I see your eyes of
cloudless skies and open fields
          graze upon my lit cigarette
          and you smile politely
   acknowledging my tardiness

                        five years have blown past us
  as if we are static characters in
   this movie we call life

have we changed
  have we morphed from the
claws of Lilith's shadows
  to become consumers of
seltzer and whiskey

have we changed from the
  decrees of Mao
proclaiming consumerism to be

here we are
  sitting under the flames
of Denmark wondering;
         wondering about
past brothers and sisters and future
   brothers and sisters;
 wondering how much a
cup of tea is in New Delhi
 wondering how much a
slice of chocolate mousse is in Dublin

      it is now 2:34 D.
                savings time

  the streets look like
negatives and
       the air feels salacious.

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