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Friday, August 04, 2006

Moonrise over 23rd

Narrow sidewalks force me close enough to smell their gin spiked breath
Citric laughter floating on the air left
In the wake of strappy sandals
Casually expensive belts
And a black lace bodice dress
Reminiscent of one I wore once to a murder mystery party.
I was the madam of ill repute. (But only my fake eyelashes were murderous
As it turned out.)

Tonight I am just a drab watcher
Of glamorous diners with martinis,
Well polished cars
Single men with dogs looking in vain for a place to piss
Gay couples window shopping
And a 5 year old boy dancing outlandishly
For the amusement of his older sister sitting at an outside table
Waiting for the adults to finish talking.
Just in time they notice her brother careening off the curb.

I wonder if the tortie-shell has wandered back into the street
Where she stubbornly sat until I stopped the car,
Got out, and escorted her across, while she
Taunted my fruitless hunt for parking on her block.
All of us hopefully circling
Under the expectant watch of a six month pregnant moon
Just visible over the roof of a trendy Thai restaurant where you could order
Miang Kum and a cup of white tea, if you could just find a place to...

But tonight you’ll find me holed up counterside with a slice of mushroom pizza
Listening closely to the owner’s New York accent as he accuses
A delinquent customer. Disloyal… it’s been months.
He smiles a goodbye as I toss the paper plate and lean into the screen door
Taking my burnt flour footprints out into the round-bellied night.
Maybe next time I’ll ask him why he blows under the dough
As he slides it into the oven, and how he makes it
Selling $2.50 slices of pizza on NW 23rd.

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