Fliegenden Fels verpasst eng Kopf von todmüde

boxi dreamed of her again
at the end of a strip mall,

they held an open mic
african rhythm section and dancers
behind each of the performers

the chill night air tinged with an echo of pounding drums,
pounding feet,
and the reveling crowd around.
dancing and yelling and laughter
but someone is throwing rocks into the air.

i asked to borrow twenty dollars,
she said i can give you six
she turned away and i rummaged thru her bag
until i found a ten folded up like an origami swan

someone on the edge of the crowd
is throwing increasingly larger rocks
into the air, over the people
circling the perimeter a few more join in the game
tossing large clumps of land and boulders
dangerously close to our heads

the scene begins to spin out of control
a fear like ice cracks from the middle of the crowd
outward toward the maniacal grins on the edge,
taunting, glaring with shining eyes

my ride arrives as i am counting the sixteen dollars
i suppose i shouldnt to ask him to borrow me a twenty

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