the
evening dewy with tired city rain

bustling
streets hurried people

with
other people in their lives

to call
their own

to be me
my only desire was to be

held by
strong warm arms

will you
be my protector

watching
patrons coming in and out

sipping
my sharp pop rock ginger ale

i wondered
about nineteen thirty seven

thoughts broken
for a second naked man

runs into
traffic but he’s o.k.

my eyes
sleepy mosey on downward

bei mir
bist du schoen

serenade
the Andrews Sisters while

women named
Hazel with a hyacinth scent

sip their
gin rickeys wiping their lipstick off the glass

in the saloon
there are men reading the LA Times

yet
others share lively union talk

then the sapphire
eyed mysterious stranger

raven jet
hair and a dead maus t shirt

taps me
on my gothic shoulder Mary Pickford’s

angels wink
at me as they…