Layover

Layover

I met her in the lobby bar of a hotel

down by the airport in LA. It was

the kind of place you end up when

your choices are like a game of

“Would You Rather?”

An exchange of pleasantries evolved

into sad stories about business trips

and missed connections. She told me

she was getting a divorce and out here

looking for a new start. Why not? I thought,

sadness always looks better with a tan

and a good pair of sunglasses.

She told me she dreamed in pastels

which struck me as odd, because

she only spoke in primary colors

like pain and regret.

I asked her if she wanted to come

up to my room and she looked down

as if she had dropped something

under the bar. She mumbled something,
looked up and I could see the resignation
in her smile.

Murmured protestations often proceed

to surrender in dim resolve of night

as the alcohol and feel of another’s flesh
dull the ache.

“What did she say her name was?”

SMG

A Different Tune

A Different Tune

I
   fell
          in
               love
with Jazz
intoxicating rhythm
without
rhyme or reason
                                        random
patterns
                  and
dangerous curves
I've always loved music
but Jaz
was the first music
that loved me back
her eyes
captivate
and penetrate
she plays
                    in my mind
and plays
                    with my emotions
caresses my ears
dances on my lips
and
        fucks me
                          like a Bangkok whore
she rips the heart
from my chest
and
        squeezes it
                             to her own
                                                 peculiar beat


SMG

Fleeting

Fleeting

The memories dissolve
like ice in warm whiskey;
the brush of her breath
whispering sweet lies;
a ghost in my ear.

She was brief, like midnight,
and when we kissed
I could taste Manhattan
at night; the darkness,
the crush and desire.

The sweep of the second-
hand across the clock face
without pause. A dream
unfinished; interrupted
by inevitable dawn.

SMG