I dropped 30¢ and a letter on a sandwich he left at the bar,
took a bite because it needed taking under the
hot sun lamps –– smut on my nose. That 30¢
should be enough to buy a one way phone call to
another time. Same bar. New me?
And the letter?
That’s good for a lap dance, some laughs or her love
on the side streets of a smart phone world, where
dreams walk with medusa-eyed muses and poets
Lethe away past sips, sleep off tomorrow’s sins
against a bar wet with serpents
eating their own tails…
The bite in my sandwich. 30¢ and a letter. Unread. Again.
Every Monday, GJC will be sharing a poem from John T. Trigonis, a local JC Heights resident, poet, writer, and coffee aficionado, in our Monday Musings.