#2 periodically, he lights a cigarette and lets it burn down down his fingers, sirens come ashore to hold hands with sailors and pick their pockets somewhere else, a streetlight burns out

#1 Sailors in the bar wearing all black holding bouquets of dandelion they weep over empty bottles of Absinth and sing songs of mermaids and salmon, the clowns dance with toddlers under a pale moon howling up at the sky underneath a dead tree sits an old mime, his head in ...