Sunday Morning Coming Down

Lipstick on crumpled shirt collar
seen through rain rattled windows
yesterday's news strewn on polished pine
telling tales of a bombed desert
and a celebrity couple bound for Spain

a protest singer wailing the changing time
heard through flaking plastered walls
then remixed by a passing beat boxed car
headed for a deal by the silver river
on a mission to junk up the young

coffee maker pumping in a kitchen for one
inhaled by a visiting friend at the door
who carries flowers and Italian pastries
the possibilities of the coming hours
force her to dance on the spot

as the clouds break on this played out Sunday morning