a fiesta of charms

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...1615...
...the taste of the night sat on the tongue, with a clarity that has
Al move about the darkness quietly and quickly... with heads
bopping to here and there Al arrived to 1615 and stood staring
into the long mainly off white hallway with a lone man sat about
mid way through drinking from a sun yellow bin... that housed
pornographic images and gravy stains... latent dreams...
...the sound of a bus wheels past to loud screams ascending in
decibels to the melancholic yawns of Al now ringing the bell...
the strawberry taste of flavoured condoms on the breath... o I’d
best mention Mahler... the rhythm of polite conversation a
systematic flaw of happening akin to a programme, a scheduled
occurrence, that even Al, as a newly released patient had long
acclimatised to... the nature of plight adorned with purple
mystique Al refers to as time spent with an Uncle, as they walk
along the long hallway and chit chat...
...One Eyed Johnny as Al soon called him fails to notice much,
more concerned with detailing amenities, the thin walls enabling
the noise of erratic sex between an Indian couple, the brown
gush of water when the faucet had been turned for more than
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