Susan

Another dark drink
in the corner of
another dark bar.
Student,
this is how we practice
the art of
forgetting.
The bend of an elbow,
the swallowing of
words.
Student,
this is how
we hold love
and whiskey,
and learn to pretend
our grip
is
empty.

the noble savage with junior the third

three drinks in,
wishing i could blow a sax like that,
thinking about tattoos and humidity,
and you.
thumbs pressed against my lips
to not smile at the drunks
listening to
the jazz,
foot tapping in tandem
with my numb nose.
come dance with me to these
liquid blues,
bite my collarbones and
tell me a story about
the sweetness of
my alabaster skin.
fifth drink and
all i can taste is [...]