A male I was told and can confirm,

a life was lived but lived for whom?

Still time to go with no parole,

so I dig a hole as shoulders burn.

Whiskey talks while cigarettes dance for Pacific air,

put your nose to the surface while the cherry’s there.

My throat is closed but the cuffs are off.

I can feel it now, still decades to go!

Celebrate with a jaunty tune and dance a dance with Jenny Hips,

watch her move and feel the winds.

“You’re a young man, Kid”  some old guy shouted before he mixed Tequila and pills.

Was it a suggestion of action or a pointless tip?

Either way,  I hope to learn from her and him,

words and moves and life at best,

’cause life is life so fuck the rest.