Memphis

 

I met her in a bar in Memphis

She apologized for all the smoke

She said I know I look tired, but

Everything is fried here

My thoughts; my words

My mind; the food

 

She said I walk the streets but the faces

All look the same

We watched the color run from the night

And we got burned beneath the street lights

And the evening just oozed desperation

As the clouds swallowed the moon

 

She said the stars look different tonight

Like maybe we are missing a few

I think god’s been sleeping on the job

We floated on down the avenue

We both have seen a few,

Or maybe a few too many

It all makes for a good story

At least that’s what they tell me

 

She had a laugh like razor wire,

A confident smile, but

A nervous cough, or

Maybe it was from breathing in

A bit too much of the night              

 

I asked her her name

She said let’s not complicate things

Who says romance is dead

We made it to her apartment

And the last thing I remember

Was that bottle of whiskey

And the peculiar patterns the sun

Made on her wall in the morning