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
Attached to many
Too many to count
So many strokes that
His tip lost count
Seeping into
A state of less than

Possibility of love
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
splashed with cranberry
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