Transitory ( a poem for Lou Reed 2/3/42 - 27/10/13 R.I.P)

White light, white heat
And another voice flys,
Yesterday the wind twisted
And velvet dreams
Scattered over New York streets.

Volatile tonque defused
A bright intensity,
Blurred into time
The universe shifted
Its pale blue eyes.

The black angel's 

Death song sang.

Goodnight ladies

Waiting for its man.
The satellite of love,

Hanging 'round
Walking on the wild side.

There's a bit of magic in everything
And then some loss to even things out,
After drinking alchemy at 80 mph
Another poet sleeps, does  not compromise,
Slipping slowly away, falling into our memory
To lanquidly whisper, over all tomorrow's parties,
Painting crooked lines from drifting clouds

Laden with chords of rebel attitude.