The Harlequins poked through red curtains
Only half a story of what’s going on behind
the shadows cast by advertising signs
the saling too secondhand serenades
Crochet seas and vinyl masquerade.
You tuned into late for coffee
there’s a ball going on of no return
By the jockey’s photo with rosettes
Of whichever way you run
the helicopter Caught you
on the finishing line.
The false advertising when the
Sewing machines not black and gold.