"Welcome
to Britannia Pier:
Live
Entertainment, Family Bars
open
till late. Temporary Tattoos;
Treasure
Island Amusements,"
All drums
and neon, a strange voice croons "in the jungle,
the
mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonite." Pools
of
light and lovers sliding with each other
into
the dusk are as snatches
of perfume
from Grandfather's garden where
you walked,
eyes closed, in the spring
that
he died; and as each
one jewels
in darkness, beaded bright
pearls
into the straight lines
of
the night, you wonder why
all enchantment withered
and the dreams
led
not to glory,
only to here.
