Yellow Brick Road
Walk the
streets of film noir, yellow lighting and doors ajar
Casting
shadows even hissing gas I imagine, from time far
Warmth
and stealth the combination of night wealth
Rich
portrait of a time long ago brought to now
A link
with the past reaching to the future
Down on
the harbor front a long ago gateway to Damascus
Thru’ the
time tunnel up the mountain to ancient stairs
I hear
the tapping of intrigue as the spy dares
My domain
is in the shadows as the bars beckon
See the
people and listen to their languages from time forgotten
I’m a
westerner with America
in my wake
Alone
like the ranger in this strange place that’s God’s sake
I follow
this yellow brick road from a story here nobody knows
No gold
or treasure to measure but ghosts of those that came to blows
Absinthe
or vermouth, the nagila or, the vodka invasion
Always
this mix in the Land
of King David’s scion
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