Except the Memory of You

Sometimes I feel like
some sad old goddamn song
that everyone knows the words to
but just won’t sing along

        --Charlie Chesterman, "Mister Blue"

Laughing girl
tugs her beater over her belly
earns a stage shout-out
is easily amused
seemingly cheerful
like baby’s breath
in a carnation bouquet

She is rain on Sunday
bag of kittens in the river
last call banjo
at Nico’s Recovery Room
stumbling down Highland Ave
three flights up
to an empty bed

Flash 55 for Real Toads!