Monday, July 03, 2006

Poem: The Meeting Place

I often write when I am inside a lounge or small club with tables. The atmosphere is so charged that it becomes inspiring. This is what I came up with on Friday night at The Meeting Place here in DC.


The Meeting Place

Men…traveling alone
Un-attached
Attached to many
Too many to count
So many strokes that
His tip lost count
Creeping...
Seeping into
A state of less than

Possibility of love
Condemned
No deliverance in sight
Citing authorship of promise keepers
Remembrance of lustful emptiness
Joined by lies
accompanied with afternoon brunch

Menu: Doubles and Salt-Fish
Beverage: Ting


The sweet, pungent smell of meaningless sex
Meaning less than salvation or
Greater than pleasure

Meanwhile, life is still in motion
While his brain cells soak in a glass of
Vodka
splashed with cranberry
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