The keyboard stood there on its stand
like it was the last one in all the land.
Next to it, an old brass horn
that had long ago played its last note
gave the room some class.
Once upon a time he thought he would have a great band
but nothing ever came of it other than getting really tanned
at all the southern joints they had played.
His hair now was all combed and shorn
and the music he once played and knew by rote
disappeared from his mind like all of his cash.
The strange woman groaned - she shouldn't have stayed!
He would not be able to pay her, but she was in his room!
Quiet as a mouse he got out of bed, the room like a tomb
and the floor cold as hell.
He tripped on the wadded up rug and nearly fell.
Luckily, he had one cold beer left in the fridge
and a little good Scotch he had hid behind some lids.
He promptly drank both so he could think straight.
Well, she would just have to deal with it and wait
until he got his next unemployment check.
He rubbed the back of his neck
and went outside onto the deck.
There he could see and smell the city.
It stank of garlic, diesel and sperm.
The Windy City was calm as death.
He hoped he had not caught some germ
from the girl, was her name Beth?
She stirred and the blanket fell off
of her naked body.
She was not bad looking after all.
The Scotch had done its trick
so he climbed back into bed
and entered her from behind.
What the hell!
He was broke so he might as well enjoy himself.
Life could be such a joke
but this time the joke was on her.
And in her.
He laid back and lit up a Lucky Strike.
After it was gone, he rolled over and
went back to sleep.
He would deal with the girl later.
After he got his act together again
and maybe become somebody that someone could like.
Not likely though, the learning curve was too steep.
Easier to drink than to think.
----------------------------------------
mindbringer, 20 January 2013
like it was the last one in all the land.
Next to it, an old brass horn
that had long ago played its last note
gave the room some class.
Once upon a time he thought he would have a great band
but nothing ever came of it other than getting really tanned
at all the southern joints they had played.
His hair now was all combed and shorn
and the music he once played and knew by rote
disappeared from his mind like all of his cash.
The strange woman groaned - she shouldn't have stayed!
He would not be able to pay her, but she was in his room!
Quiet as a mouse he got out of bed, the room like a tomb
and the floor cold as hell.
He tripped on the wadded up rug and nearly fell.
Luckily, he had one cold beer left in the fridge
and a little good Scotch he had hid behind some lids.
He promptly drank both so he could think straight.
Well, she would just have to deal with it and wait
until he got his next unemployment check.
He rubbed the back of his neck
and went outside onto the deck.
There he could see and smell the city.
It stank of garlic, diesel and sperm.
The Windy City was calm as death.
He hoped he had not caught some germ
from the girl, was her name Beth?
She stirred and the blanket fell off
of her naked body.
She was not bad looking after all.
The Scotch had done its trick
so he climbed back into bed
and entered her from behind.
What the hell!
He was broke so he might as well enjoy himself.
Life could be such a joke
but this time the joke was on her.
And in her.
He laid back and lit up a Lucky Strike.
After it was gone, he rolled over and
went back to sleep.
He would deal with the girl later.
After he got his act together again
and maybe become somebody that someone could like.
Not likely though, the learning curve was too steep.
Easier to drink than to think.
----------------------------------------
mindbringer, 20 January 2013
