“FINISHING THE SAKE”

The taste in my throat;
A celebration.
Making the train—
after running 4 blocks,
in the dark rain;
Looking for the neon
that refused to glow.
The last one out;
We got on and sat down
in the back—
with that bloody trickle
coming down the rear
of my mouth.
Sushi was a good idea;
Hers.
She sat next to me,
reading the writers—
better than me, but dead.
I, at least, was still alive—
in her eyes.
And that was good enough
back then,
for a cheap hotel room bed
or just a train whistle blowing,
alone with her;
While the other passengers
slept off another rainy day
hangover.

narrative poem written on 12-13-2010 by: on mattkane.com
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