Friday, September 06, 2013

V. 2, #161: September 6, 2013

The way it was, was this: I'm at the bar
with Willie, when the guy walks in and smiles.
You seen that gravel parking lot. We're miles
from anyplace. We never heard no car.

He steps right up and plops down on the stool.
He spoke--I can't remember what he said.
His voice was low. He smelled like something dead.
And all the time just grinning like a fool.

That grin--too wide, too many teeth. It grew
until his nose and eyes were just three slits.
He disappeared behind it, like the cat
in Wonderland. Willie gets up and splits,
but I'm plum froze. He gapes. His tongue is blue.
I don't remember nothing after that.

No comments: