The Haven

if only all of
us were privy to a warm
shell of seasoned meat

M Bar and Lounge

sleeping tidily
in lacquered berths, char and silk,
what fine orphanage

Tavern Law

lithe dancer, you are
green, wanton, casting
light against the darkest world

Baguette Box

grey on sky-blue grey
lapping at the dock; meanwhile
lemongrass cloaks beef

Fatty Crab

whiskey chased by egg;
squid, short-rib, oh the comfort
duck fat in my pores