Shadow land, the labyrinth of human dreams,
Cosmetic soldiers of java espresso amphetamine,
Mind blank broken synapses and plastic palm trees,
Swaying to the electric fan's breeze,
Mutated modern art cell nuclei,
Split and collide on the moldy walls,
Fractured grin of James Dean mythic pandemonium,
Scatters pentagrams down on the young Beat crowd,
Black leotard chick illuminated by pale gold candlelight,
Scheming visionaries in the corner roaring like endless tides,
While ageless Latin bongo beat reverberates this mausoleum,
Persephone and Demeter sit at the bar,
Riding the river to the underworld of oblivion,
Plastered bar flies drifting like so many indifferent minnows,
To the candlelight flame shining on this evening's bedazzled,
Through seas of candlelight and shadow, I swim toward your dark mystery,
Bongo Club, shadow land refuge to life's wandering casualties.