Gimme Some Slack

i want to shake like Liguardia
magic mouth in the sun
train ride to the courtyard
before you can run
down at the end of lonely street
where no one takes a walk
someone’s lying at your feet
and someone’s getting off
just gimme some slack
the seven floors of walkup
the odor musted cracks
the peeping keyhole introverts
with the monkeys on their backs
the rooftops strung with frauleins
the pastel pinned up sails
the eighteen color roses
against your face so pale
i want to float like Euripides
all visions intact
i’m alright with Fellini fiends
tripping over the track
down at the end of Lonely Street
where no one takes a chance
someone’s in the cheap light
and someone wants to dance