This is Thom Too.

by papalpigeon


Sun goes down in a Puerto Rican town

Desecheo’s in the distance.

Tom stands on a roof top, begging for just a few more minutes.



As I await the coming of cosmically complete night,

the bats come out to dance with the setting sun.

I’m happy while I watch their flutters.

My attention shifts naturally towards discerning different sounds

Frogs and insects make their mark on an empty canvass.

Then the faint roar of a loudspeaker,

some wonderfully crazed Spanish music

from the bottom of the hill at the bars.

I walk down the hill while whistling muzak and fiending drugs or sex…

Already a little too drunk but

no matter.

I’ll powder my nose when I get there,

and shuffle through the throes

with my eyes on my toes that tap ‘til tomorrow