Bombardment of the Travelers Companion on Irasta

It was the Ninth of Nothington
on the backlot of the Travelers Companion
where the smokers get their fix
wrenching sky crawlers
and cat calling the lady whores

Ginger
and her Nightingale bastards swooped in
expecting a tournament
cash in crumpled orgies from their fat gas pockets
carbon dioxide stains
and flashing grinning cold gold canines

they won six stacks
laughing
     grab ass'ing
popping off road flares at passing cowboys
mouthing their own sick tongue
twisting in that flawless florid fluorescent
sheen of youth

The Cavanaugh broke the sky
trailing stars and belching ugly black smoke
the tower of Babel collapsed into
snowflakes
     and white sand
things on the inside trembled

woe to the Travelers Companion
where once stone was king
hissed hot new air
the Tenth fell short
that suffocating cloak
that took Ginger
and her Nightingale bastards too.

TA