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  Hopeful Emigration

If we could facilitate the sway as an errant music
drifting like a journal of smoke and dancers

where common horns emancipate, and emotions
ripple—here the heady ones press to the front, like

pioneer riders making the treacherous journey.
Leaving us to wonder, as we sat idly at the bar,

if this was a real life, or one merely wearing a fresco
of graffiti and tattoos. Misinformation was a thing
      most easy to gather
as we looked across the mileposts of this evening's
dancefloor—a place clearly empowered, abundant,

and that too crumbling upon sofas and loose chairs—
the darker minions shuffling toward a place unbuttoned
      with entry.

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