It Glows

No more like you,
The open book,
Of hardware,
Left to rust,
As a reminder,
To us out of time,
That all decays,
The rough-edged echo,
Of the liquor stores,
Has paled in evenings,
With the loss of blood,
Across the pavement,
Where the spirit flows,
And genres fight,
For life,
This smoky shop,
Has all life in it,
All poisons we supply,
To those who come,
And those who talk.