Closing TIme

Bar closed
one o’clock
‘tween a hard place
and a rock,
Three sheets
to the breeze
behind the bar
left my keys,

Took a taxi
dirty yellow
driven by
Pakistani fellow,
To the place
that I rented
the taxi old
well dented,

Retired police
Crown Vic
could hear a cold
revolver click,
Its past life
on the street
luckily we
didn’t meet,

Up the stairs
porch light dead
both fell
into the bed
Sound asleep
fully clothed
through our wires
no current flowed,

Next morning
reborn
the garbage truck
back up horn,
Woke me with
insistent sound
rubbed my eyes
and looked around,

Started coffee
and the shower
took off my clothes
a somewhat sour,
Taste deep
in my mouth
to much tequila
from down south?

Felt the water
on my skin
turned around
again and again,
Found some shorts
a tee-shirt
cup of coffee
didn’t hurt,

In the bed
heard her stir
she looked at me
in a blur,
Handed her
caffè crema
and a bit of
a dilemma,

Pulled her knees
to her chest
still in bed
fully dressed,
Said she didn’t
feel that great
spyed the clock
said: “it’s late”,

She got up
looked around
like in some
lost and found,
Searching for
a misplaced piece
of the puzzle
or inner peace,

Found her purse
her cell device
called an Uber
then kissed me twice,
“…For last night
and for next week
perhaps we’ll find
what we seek …”,