Fifteen Minutes

 

In the fifteen minutes

you claimed would elapse

before you arrived at my house

wearing a tuxedo,

 

I read Charles Bukowski

and saw the December boat parade.

Before you arrived, I heard blow horns

punctuate the salsa CD

 

spinning in my bedroom.

I read about Bukowski’s cats,

both of them,

and their sanity

 

in the late hours of the night.

My fingers,

all ten of them,

this eager to type

 

This Early in the Night.

 

Written 2005

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Fifteen Minutes

  1. Pingback: Words For The Weekend (The Poetry Edition. Plus Gus, Johnny, Shel and Nina), Volume 38 | Running On Sober

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s