...from behind the counter,
she smiled at me in a deeper way.
Her eyes told stories
about ecstasy and the prison
of family life.
So, I went back to the table,
drank the coffee,
and I tried to exorcise
the temptations
through words.
The typer has always been
my most loyal lover.

–Ron Gavalik

The same old scents
never change.
They make me laugh
into the steel sink.
I do it for the echo.
I like the echo.
It proves
I am still here
for now.

–Ron Gavalik

I may never understand
you. For certain,
you will never understand
me. That’s okay.
It’s the mystery, baby
that keeps the heart pumping.
I can’t think of another reason
to allow the blood to remain
in my veins.

–Ron Gavalik

The value of food
is completely unknown
until the hunger sets in.
I can say the same
for love.

–Ron Gavalik

Old lady perfume
wafts through the café.
The smell of wildflowers
rolled through baby powder
baffles me. That scent
is an asexual surrender
of life and love.
That stink is the active ******
of the will to go on.
It is malevolence
in the wind.

–Ron Gavalik

If you can't spit fire,
swallow hard,
and then slide out of the way.
Words and time
are far too valuable
to be wasted
by the amateurs
of life.

–Ron Gavalik