(2014)
I belong in a Viennese café, where women line up
Like pretty bowling pins to sip champagne
And to watch time, waiting to complain,
Waiting for their lives, content in coffee cups.
Or in a Paris nightclub, where dancers line up
Like breathless ponies to kick up their legs in refrains
And to watch time unravel, waiting to entertain,
Waiting for their lives in costumes, bold pin-ups.
I might sit in the Egyptian theater, where old movies flicker
Like an intermittent pulse, preaching in Kinetoscope,
Uncovering time in black and white, waiting to blanch hope,
Waiting to bully hearts, forcing them to beat quicker.
I could sail into Catalina Island’s Casino, where the dance floor,
Like the ocean that surrounds, is vast, cushioning feet,
Revealing melodies in threads of connection, in binding beats,
Waiting for him to float through the door…again to the floor.
I could also be on a Newport Beach barstool, where agave laced
Cocktails graced with lemon wheels and basil tickle
My throat, while I watch the bonne nuit, and no longer fickle
I open my heart to the moment, graced.
Oui. I belong on a Hollywood rooftop, watching the night.
Like a firefly in a forest, it rambles in flight.
Like jasmine on the air, it clears the fray.
The night is my comfort; the night is my day.
