was that us dancing that slow with Chet on the ledge of the Amsterdam Hotel 
like the slow rush of heroin to the brain, was that you fleeing the Van Gogh 
museum saying it's too real it's too real it's too 
 
was it he who muted the yellows and we in his horn exhaling and in  
like a shy breeze too scared to breathe. was it I who said the stars are so artificial 
let's keep it that way. was it she who left the tracks in his blood, she who started 
the heart of the ballad pumping. was it you who said the street is a trampoline 
 
let us fall tonight let us fall a couple of bounces a couple of rolls and we'll 
 
was that he fumbling for his Methodone when that behind the stars caught him 
with his horn down, was it you who traced our wasted faces with chalkdust,  
whispering on the way down the gods want us the gods want to come inside us 
and 
 
I'm a fool to  
want 
you.  
I'm 
a 
fool 
to 
 
 
did they get their shoes red in the street, their pockets green on Ebay. Did they enjoy their brush with someone famous? Take your flash you might still catch it when the night dances impossibly slow in Amsterdam  
 
for 
 
some lovers never hit the ground.




©2005 by Ray Sweatman