Instant Love

Instant Love


The man in the dark overcoat
In his rented sleep cell
Clutched his cup of instant coffee
Staring at Moon Drop lady’s pancake breasts
With her eyes bleeding brimstone eye shadow
And her legs too skinny to be eighteen

She was Monique or Monica or any other name
A real Moon Drop lady
Squeezing a fat cigar between her legs
She came from nowhere to nowhere
Ripe for the crushed velvet couch
And hurried embrace

The man paused …
    thinking of …
Desperate passion from long ago
    Before instant love