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.