the girl in the white dress dances
her hair swings to the music
her eyes are shut
shes looking at the roof as if shes outside
the sway of her body is calm, relaxed
like shes dreaming
like shes floating
shes carefree
the song changes
her knees collapse
she looks to the floor
puts her hands on the ground
pushing herself up and walks to the bar

I was sitting alone in the bar watching people getting wasted when she came and sat right next to me. I didn't notice her much until she asked me, "Can I buy you a drink?"
I looked at her and smiled, "What's the occasion?"
"Nothing, just finding a perfect way to finish my celebrations ."

And that was it. A drink led to a couple of more till we were no different than the people in the bar.

Around 3 at night, I woke up from what seemed like a dream and found her sitting in front of the mirror. I watched her as she brushed her hair and colored her lips red again.
"Where are you going?", I asked her as she got up to leave. My question made her stop in the door.
She didn't turn back, just whispered,
"Where all the dead people go."

the perimeter remains
a puzzle
without its centerpiece.
as at rest
as an
open beat.
a fist full of meat.
a trophy
of
atrophy.

Someone stole the last piece of my turkey sandwich.
I bet the ******* put some pepper on it.
I hope it was pepper from that
***** *** pepper-shaker that is no longer see-through.
That ******* left me with one poker-chip pickle slice and
Those pieces of potato chips that you
Have to spear with a fingertip to eat.
That *******!
I am sure he put mustard on that last piece of turkey sandwich;
In that delicate delicatessen squiggly pattern that is all in the wrist.
-And, speaking of wrist, that ******* forged my signature perfectly.
He even put another Lone Star bottle on my tab then
Neatly arranged the bottle caps next to four toothpicks.
That suave *******.
To honor him, when I get home
I am going to smoke his ****,
**** his girlfriend and take his ****.

You are refreshing
like the breeze on a hot day.

It is not in that you make me forget
the rough environment
and offer a moment of calm.

And not in the motion
that relieves the senses
through gust.

But rather, cleansing
in that you remind me of
juxtapositions in the world:

the arid and cool;
the stale and fleeting.

Just like the wind, you are brevity
that clearly shows
why contrasts highlight
and you are the
pleasant other underscored.

Rehashing the rare
Out with the new,
In with the old.
She's always had a thing
For the things that exude
A quirkiness and a bucolic charm
The smell of old books
The black and the white
Good ol' Chaplin, James Dean
And the Sound of Music
The Beatles, a tape recorder
High-waisted pants
And the gramophone
And a rustic old bar
With a gruff bartender
Who's off his rocker
But he'll double up as your therapist
And for the boy with the dark brown eyes
Who looks across the bar at her.
And smiles.
It's all black and white again
Except this time,
It isn't her favourite Casablanca scene
But a white screen
And a thousand particles
Microcosmic
A milieu of
Unfathomable numbers float
Through the atmosphere
Connecting her to him.
And she doesn't want that.
She's always had a thing for the old,
But he makes her doubt that.

I walked in and took my place at the bar waiting a bit impatiently for the bartender. After a few minutes she came I order a pbr and a shot of whiskey. my shot stings going down but I take a large sip of my beer and it sooths. I talk to some people for a bit but I can't help but look for you. I glance at  the barstool I know you rest and i see you. From the looks of it this may be your 5th nightcap of the evening. And I'm promised it won't be your last. We meet eyes. You gaze at me the same way I, for you. I walk over and give you an I - miss - you hug. He's familiar will thoes. We jabber on about nonsense and and laugh at the strange curly-haried man dancing in the corner. God I love his laugh. I order a few more pbrs and a couple more shots.. my whiskey curauge has me blurting out if he would like to stay with me after all has closed. He says he's usual answer. And for just a split second I wonder if my options were much better asked after he has had a couple of caps or if he would say yes regardless?.. some days I'm unaware. We leave and it's as if nothing has changed between us. The two of us walk to his place stopping for beer no less. Tipsy as we are were acting very silly skipping around, making strange noises at one another. We just go back to the two free spirited people simply infatuated with one another. And I'm flying in bliss. I sit on the bed and look at him. Memorizing his movments. He moves so beautifly so gracefully.  He hands me an IPA,  the way he's eyes meet mine is breathtakingly lovely.  And in that moment, I could look at this handsome, complicated,  loving, courageous man forever.

Little glass soldiers
and their ranks swell
they fall in lockstep, clacking on the tabletop
and how many, I can't tell

Notes over the air
Loud enough to force a pair
Who want to talk
A little closer together

To be completely forthright
I have this kind of insight
somewhere between seldom
and never

I couldn't say, now, why I came
Except to watch the people dance
but from the corner, a loaded glance
and I forget my name

And I forget my name.

I
I have to look away
and I
Haven't got the faintest notion why I feel this way but I
I
I'll bet I say something wrong and all dutch courage gone and maybe I should stand and go or risk letting my strangeness show and staring at the bartop wood and didn't notice when she stood and heart is ramming through my chest and barely felt her light caress and eyes **** up to catch a dark pair staring back at me and I
I
Forget
There's only her
And she's smiling back.