April 17, 2008

putting together
the fragments
of yesterday I sat in this
back street bar watching
the animated waterfall
fall gently
like a postcard vacation

the jukebox
spins 45s
pieces of lost songs
of faded love
of jaded love
of too many quarters
falling down
that sad slot
of swizzle sticks stirring
the last drink

putting together
the fragments
of tomorrow
I sit in this
lonely bar watching
the lazy-eyed blonde
black roots
bad rouge
kissing the napkin
with too much lipstick

knowing vacations
and getting lucky
really aren’t
what they
used to be.