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russian roulette

>> Thursday, September 30, 2010

you own that corner in the cafe
beside the french window
a plastic flower, a chipped vase
no ashtray on the table for two

right after work you go, always
the man with the apron no sugar, he does
not return your smile anymore

but your trouble is your trouble
your friends knew better
you sit and wait while the dark
brew courses through your heart

surely he'll come looking for you
they always do you say
if only you were born that way or
they don't fly off the handle easy

the tenth stick 'neath a heel goes
and at six o five a gush
for in comes the one. you think
of your bed (and was the cat fed?)

he's looking now, with eyes alit
just the perfect swagger
the right sneer you're looking for
(sigh) what are tables for two for?


and you fall as all dead things fall
gathering dust as you go
tasting warm red black and blue            
and gone before you hit the floor



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