another

Sonnet (40s flick)


The same old show tunes.
Pour yourself another drink
an index finger pressed against the lip.
Consolation delivered by the tumbler.

Luck falls like a ball in the slot
or that foggy memory of a rendezvous at the airfield.
The hand hesitates in the pocket.
Where were the papers he’d concealed?

In the Hotel Desire there is a vacancy.
Yet she has always left before you arrived.
You've learned all your lines by heart
and how to stumble down stairs for applause.

When honesty demands secrets
I want you to turn out the light.