He called her Carolina

I want to build a shack on a shore that looks like a shipwreck on sand with a lighthouse on top. She would stand in a slanting titanic position and go by the name outfits. Cafe Carolina… And inside there would be bars, cafes, restaurants with big ass balconies And cute waitresses in pirate And while sad men would gather around the poker table And while some always won for some lost Some happier than some not Breezy still knew all his bluffs from far away sharpening his cue near the snooker table post. And yes, She would flick her knife at him from under the hat And yes, he would kiss an older woman who would beat all the younger ones by miles at that.. And while strangers would find their world strange The penthouse would floor itself in Penrose tiles.. The cartoonist around the blue horizon would still be sketching the comic strip of post modern lives.. The Jazz would still be conspiring without any given lies. Carolina took in all.. the old, the bald, the tall the ones judgemental, the ones not at all.. Against the bright orange sunset Against the all powerful judgemental god That day Carolina stood tall.