Hudson Line Blows

So we go out to this bar
Saturday night sure thing
Down on the west side
Of the infamous Hudson River
Blonde bombshell with crew
and dark haired mystery woman
Tapan Zee to the north
GWB to the south
Across the river a whistle
On the Hudson Line blows smoke
While flying by everyone waves
As if they are floating on liquid gold
And I’m feeling lost
In my old haunting ground
Like I’ve never been here before
A stranger in familiar surroundings
Out of my comfort zone 
Out of my element
A fish out of water
Square peg 
…in a round hole
Oblio 
And it’s not a far stretch
Of the imagination
Culture shock and reminiscing
Don’t always go hand in hand
Sipping wine through a straw
Cheap fragrant masculine cologne
Fills the air loud bass beat roll
Burns my senses to the core
Vinny and Frankie commonality
Thick in the middle as age creeps up
– but no one seems to notices
By the time last call fades
Off into the mist
I don’t know where I belong any more
Stepping out on all sides
Everything feels heavy handed
Tossing snake eyes coming up double
Maybe it’s a fine time
To play the hand that has been dealt
And fade off into the horizon
On a fast sailing vessel
…Hells Gate with out warning

© 2015 TrilbyYates

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