Al Fresco Café Poems #257

I have been waiting 257 days for Renata

The ballet was a tango of bullets with telephones
With each dip a lamb’s blood would be injected into dancers’ arms
Diamonds put on white dresses over their nakedness
Squeezed out of wedding rings to become tear drops
Of nymphs floating in the sewers of schoolmasters
Who pretended they were cigarette smoke from chimmies
Of old men with piles of dyamite on their rugs
And whose suntanned feet were toeless
For a finale a chorus repeated love love love peace peace peace

--Duane Locke