With heavy eyelids I am still in love with the high-ass girl who dances fast and smooth through heavy smoke. And the music is still drunk and thick with beer stains in it. Meat-packers on the weekend are desperately dancing with switchblades in back pockets. Nothing changes. The darkness still moves under the tables and along the walls, where I hide my suffering and my lust for the girl at the next table. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOLY THURSDAY, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE MOON by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES FRAGMENT 113 by HILDA DOOLITTLE ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL, FR. ROSALIND [ROSALYNDE] by THOMAS LODGE EULALIE; A SONG by EDGAR ALLAN POE DROUTH WILL BE ENDED by GLADYS NAOMI ARNOLD DIDO TO AENEAS by JOACHIM DU BELLAY THE STEALING OF THE MARE; AN ARABIC EPIC OF THE TENTH CENTURY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |