THURSDAY: Electric Eyes


Copyright is held by the author.

Electric eyes, though soft as tears
A healthy breeze, like spit and skin
Garage for burgers, bums, and beers
A raucous smoke, a blinding din.

His head is crushed, his dreams felt real
That midnight sway of dancers’ hips
He wonders how it all might feel
to kiss the smile on her lips.

Pool sticks clatter to the floor
Then angry laughs, their faces swim
They used to be his friends, he swore
With time, they all deserted him.

She lights a Kool, ignores the strife
With comet eyes, her wide face tanned
She burns a grin, and saves his life
Her palm so steady on his hand.