Hunting Ground

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Lights shine artfully from towers that stab the night sky. That’s the key. The fill light seeps from lamp-posts and taxis and pedestrian cars. The darkness becomes the subject that’s framed in heroic personification.
Alley-bound prowlers become protagonists in the urban ballet of apathy and compassion. Smoke emits from gutters to languish. Ambition puts root down on street-corners, seeking to sprout adventure.

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The Korean joint in the square vomits superstars into the downtown air. The courthouse leans on Howe, and around happy-go-luckies still desperately preening to the twilight chill.
Everywhere pulses with desperate desire. Everywhere thrusts. Men prowl the street. Women seek the light and warmth. Downtown is darkest jungle.
-BSB

sammy-slabbinck-bridge

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liberate your sin

Fair figure wrapped in veil of fragile skin
Soft visage kept in shade from ray of sun
The posture of your legs moan, “Come on in”
Meanwhile, your rolling eyes do much to shun

For men of flesh and blood and not of tin
Can forage far and wide intent on fun
But only when she liberates her sin
May that intrepid gent boast battle won

The maiden fair may not be quick to lay
On quilted bed or plot of grassy ground
She may not rush to cast off virgin’s mask

Unless she knows a man is there to stay
Until she’s sure a husband’s what she’s found
On that day, all he need to do is ask