Just Before Prince Street
Casually she pulls
the plastic spoon across
the soup cup that should
hold diner coffee and
takes a taste and
her long leg outstretched
past metal grating
forms a plaid
more striking
than her pants and
three beers in me and a walk across town
on flat city streets like a ride like a slow
roller-coaster with sweet alcohol-dips
of too little food and too much in the sun
and I lean in and say
Breathless.
Have you seen the movie when he
moves thumb over lips like this,
the one with Belmondo,
the original?
Even when you eat your soup
My eyes past clear
from last night’s drinks
and my voice like beer
piss heavy and thick and
my body play-poised
without the grace
of simple gestures.
She puts up with me and
I could love her but going in
I knew it would only take a moment
between spoonfuls.
you do it—
and I lose the word.
Breathlessly, she says.
A few drops in the ear
was all it took to kill
the king.
Remember me.
