November 30, 2011


In my noir dream
the nervous client
lights another cigarette,
seeking shelter
from a mysterious fate
she would rather I forget,
mouthing made-up promises,
knowing just how to pay
for love and trust.
Our features play
to an empty house,
forever lost
in a senseless plot,
until at last we roll by,
in unnoticed credits,
the closest we will get
to happiness.