Together
we wondered
 if it would be quite right
to slake our thirst
on the city skyline

or perhaps
drink in the grit and grime
running in rivers of decay over
my grubby feet and your designer heels

There is a dumpster telling stories to vagrants
snippets of lives and businesses
secreted in the chipped blue painted walls
it spits out stale pizza
and the clues to a murder
with equal ambivalence

The coughing of the street
interrupts and annoys
cars
choking on themselves
trucks
trundling into the earth
moving shaking
making the sound of the street
a deep resonating bass throb

Passersby share nothing
but little bits of the world
Cantonese slipping seamlessly
into the contralto hum of
Italian as converstations come to us
caress us, then move away
to cafe's and cars
to stores with doors agape
begging and luring in
wide open sultry invitation

We settle on rickety wooden seats
made for small bottoms
you look at all the thighs
spilling over the sides

as the coffee arrives
cold
sugary
served with disdain
the pencil thin gay waiter
glances perfunctorarily
at my crotch
force of habit
rather than genuine interest

We become the blur
another splash of colour
thrown against rough brick walls
seeping into the mortar
joining the riot
the cacophony

The skyline dips down
falling into our open mouths

how

deeply deeply

we do drink