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- 31 City -Scape Gentlemen’s Club, Queens For BK Keys splash in the toilet bowl and clank Dully on the brown-smudged porcelain throat, A cloudy silver quiver. The tiny blades Swim through ripples. He leans on the tank And reaches into the gleaming pearly moat. The diamond sprint and spark of cocaine fades. The deep bass whump of the strip club’s system Shivers the magic pool’s surface. He pulls The keys out, shakes them. So much for his hit. He lurks. A drink appears. The new rhythm Is sinister. Perfume and glitter swamp the air, lull Him like lotus leaves or bee song. He should quit. He should go. The others fade off. They’re through. A downy black reaches through light to blue. ...

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