You bet
there was **** frost on her breath
so coldly she told him to leave.
Just like that
he packed
his duffel bag,
fixed his hat.
Left and grabbed a bottle of Jack
and the first train.
Slowly he took a swig,
as it pulled away
better a leaving drunk on a train
than one that remains
bawling in the rain
after the tomorrows
flushing down the gutter drain.
He sank into the comfortable
locomotive sway
consulated their lust
wasn't deep enough to cause pain.
Smiling he toasted her all the best,
her and all the rest,
then he drifted away
wondering who would be next.