Dec
2
The Florentine was shit.
Rialto is a million times nicer.
I sip my bloody mary and wonder
if I’m staring at the waitress too much.
And the other waitress, too.
And the sun-dress girls passing
by the window.
It’s not too hot, a nice breeze
carries through downtown.
I think about lost change and
an empty apartment.
Barricades and cigarettes
and
memory loss.
But the waitress smiles
and the sun-dress girls
walk in sunshine slow
motion.
Today everything seems alright
and I’m content to sit here
all afternoon.
Even if I speak to no one.
alanhanson (at) csu.fullerton.edu