Taco Tuesday 

 

 

Tuesday afternoon came around. We had planned on meeting up for lunch at Rosita’s. They have the best tacos on the island. The place was beat up. It looked like it was constructed entirely of driftwood and old metal signs. I ordered the Key West Amber. The barkeep wore peach shorts and a denim shirt buttoned low over a nice, tight tank.

“I’ll have a water, no lemon please.” The sound of her voice broke the love spell.

“Sorry, I was…uh…”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“How are you?”

“I’m good. It has been a rough start to the week, but it’s early and we’ll rebound.”

“I love that about you.”

“What’s that?”

“How you always find hope in the situation.”

“What’s the alternative?”

“No, I get it. I just don’t naturally see it.”

“Are you guys ready?” The barkeep asked.

“I’m going to have the taco plate.” Alice’s voice was overly cheery, bordering on patronizing.

“Make that two, please.” I resisted looking at the barkeep, instead keeping my eyes on the menu. I folded it, handing it to her without ever looking up. I’m sure it was awkward for everyone.

“What’s your name, dear?” Alice asked the barkeep.

“It’s Summer.”

“Oh, of course it is. ”

 

*previously published

Fell Out Of Another Sailor Bar

Fell out of another sailor bar

Pacific islands; dripping with sweat

The emotionally desperate & the forever lonely

‘Twas never a more perfectly matched set

A pocketful of money & nothing else to do

Looking for Salvation under the scarce shade

Nothing found but stale tobacco scents

A few more coins to avoid this here blade

A different life at the world’s end

Not used to walking upon the steady rock

Enjoy this time of watched freedom

Best stumble back before the end of the clock

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A Broken Bottle Of Scotch & An Empty Stripper

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A broken bottle of scotch & an empty stripper

Checking my watch for the time to set sail

Three bloody sheets & all the usual drivel

Keeping always one eye on the day’s mail

Unsavory characters gathered around my table

I can’t walk straight, but my heart goes out to thee

Smoke & bar light reveal a familiar feeling

Failure felt all those years trying to break free

Hiding behind myself, not wanting to attract

Fingernail scrapes will lead to further attention

I leave this room in no condition to go

Held hostage by all the words you felt obligated to mention

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