Remnants of the past once lit our path
Beneath the industrial ceiling of a mouth with a constrained chew
The canals we rapidly travel through
In the jaw of plastic and glass
Receded in comfortable seats of our hard blue teeth
With tooth and foot we move readily
to mu and shu pork beats.
Where the dam meets the port
From this booth we absorb
Encouraging architectural sites
Mais je ne peux pas vous voir!*
The 80’s confidence of one veloured-leg exposed
on tafel unashamedly strewn
Red bean, cronut, local appeltaart were
Foreshadowing better things to come
But unbeknownst, to you, a lasso was hastily fastened
Whose absurd length pin balls around table legs
To the gentle grips of hands coalescing
slowly roping you in again, Perigee 😉
Note:
Perigee is the name for when the moon is at its closets point in orbit to the Earth
(NL) tafel : table // Appeltaart : Apple Pie
*(FR) Need to verify: Mais je ne peux pas vous voir! = But I can not see you