STAINLESS STEEL ALCOVES
Cutting table ridges on
Metallic razorback chairs;
Concrete poplars on
Concrete foundations on
Concrete window stanchions on
Lonely arbor with the reassuring breeze,
Soggy green bean overtures,
Bribing the Filipino clerk for more rice,
Swearing at the ATM,
Slamming down the falling star of my youth,
With one slug of Coke Zero.
Inside white-hot concussed hopelessness,
dreaming instead for the anonymity of White Horses
And Royal Mountain shade.
So I can see those pretty dark-haired Québécois girls
Tongue the Yukon River’s frothy caps,
Instead of writing cover letters in the colourless prairie fishbowl.
Steinbeck said it was debt that made him depressed,
For Bukowski: running out of wine,
For Me — the same; Or
Vacant architectural curios;