Thursday, July 25, 2013

Fatale

Fatale

There was a beautiful girl
at the bar tonight. Heads
turned when she walked
in like a rooster spins on top
of a weathervane. I glanced
up from my drink long enough
to notice her glide through
the room. She was lithe
in her movements, languid,
luxurious and possibly
a little bit lethal. I had seen
men strain their necks
at her kind many times before
in places as disparate as Denver,
Los Angeles, Seattle, St Louis
and even New York. She was
the kind of woman lonely old men
make love to in the hours
between waking, married men
look at the same way they do
a Porsche from behind the wheel
of their Toyotas and young men
endlessly chase like dogs
furiously circling in pursuit
of their own tails. I imagined
her name was something like Eve,
Delilah, Helen, Mariamne, Mata,
Elizabeth or Marilyn. I shook my
head at the scene as it continued
to unfold, returned to my scotch,
felt the cool smooth of the glass
against my lips, the gentle bite
of the smoke as it washed across
my tongue and I smiled as the ice
surrendered the final drops in mouth.

SMG

15 comments:

Brian Miller said...

ha. i might join you in that cool drink...our imaginations are sometimes better than reality though...like a weathervane when she blows in for sure...ha, like the name list...i know most of them...smiles...

Grace said...

I like the prose fiction poem ~ The scene unfolding can be the same in those cities, perhaps the same names too ~ I too will join you for that cool drink, smiles ~ Very smoothly written ~

Victoria said...

I especially liked the allusions to some of the femmes fatales of the Hollywood 50's..and the image you chose. This felt like it could be a lead in to a film noir. Now I'd go for the cool drink if it were a Clark or Cary or...

Susan Daniels said...

Oh, I can see this, and it DOES read like the start to a really good detective novel--a poem a la noir.

Anonymous said...

ha... intoxicating for you, I guess.
Kidding.. :-D
An enjoyable read. :-)

S.E.Ingraham said...

A splendid read, well-told and a clever list...

http://leapingelephantenterprizes.blogspot.ca/2013/07/pages-of-sorrow_25.html

Mary said...

I loved how you set the scene, carried it through, complete with lists of names, cities, and imaginings....then back to reality with the cool drink. It seems from those who commented before you will have lots of company with that drink. I'll join in as well, making it a fairly crowded bar. Smiles.

Timoteo said...

I think her name is Rita.

Ginny Brannan said...

This is a great little story you have woven here. In my head I am hearing the words in the voice of Bogart, as in Casablanca:
"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

Well done!

Claudia said...

ha... what a scene - and love the way you finish it with the drink part that was both, radical and sensual - if that makes sense? smiles

ds said...

I'm with Susan--"poem a la noir"--can visualize everything perfectly, right down to the condensation forming on that drink. Great way to work in the list, too. Thank you.

Beachanny said...

This has grit, texture, and nonchalance. I read it in my "cool" voice. Liquid words, sir.

Katie Mia Frederick said...

That makes me want to have a drink. I could use one thanks. Looking forward to one is just as good as having one I guess. The drink stores are all closed.

Kalyan Panja said...

beautiful words....lovely lines!!

Maggie Grace said...

I could hear the Bogart like narrator in my head as I read this. Well done and fun read!