Nights at the Bay

and he watched as she turned, smiled

and pressed herself against him, while

the lights on the pinball machine went on,

blinked, and the metal balls kept shooting.

outside it started to rain hard, but all he

could think was to have someone else to hold,

to hope for better days to come.

and it went on and on like that, like winter,

like people in a bar drinking themselves to forgetfulness.

nights lost in the flashlight of white skin and blonde hair,

beer, vodka and rum, a search

in the darkness of the saloon.