Alt. 19

 A cheap motel room/a bottle of Popov vodka/shadows on tile walls/wild eyes.

Outside, 
the night
closes in
like wolves. 

American Sidewalks

 As wind

crashes

against my

flesh

and cold snow

falls on

my black jacket,

I dream 

of a face,

soft and pure,

in that

warm

Palm Harbor

sun. 

Jupiter Beach Halo

Vodka breath

and

golden brown

tan;

she sleeps

naked 

under white

covers

as the sun

rises over

campus.

I stand up

and walk out

quietly;

her screen door

creaks

shut 

behind me.

I stumble home,

half awake,

half alive,

as the city

wakes up from

a taxi cab

Friday night.

A car passes

by

and I grin-

the smile

of youth

long gone.