The FireflybySander Roscoe Wolff©
(A Bar Just Off Hollywood)
Red vinyl booths.
Small tables, too small, with red vinyl chairs.
Jukebox glowing in the dim light.
Two men behind the bar,
Both dressed in black slacks,
And black bow ties:
One flips the little red stem of a lighter fluid can
Dragging it across the bar back metal.
The other, with a slight smile,
Produces a match.
Soon the bar is ablaze.
The few patrons, hazy eyed locals,
Turn slowly from their conversational cocktails
And cheer as if in slow motion.
As the flames subside, heavy lidded eyes
Turn back to the cool amber happiness
Awaiting their fevered lips.