Lois Dilivio

an old friend read "late one night" and told me his own story of a love long ago ended. i wrote it into this poem.

you taste like an ashtray
your husband's a drunk
jesus, i love you
and your skunky funk

he threatened to kill me
i gave him a beer
he drank it all down
that's why i'm still here

morning rush hour
a squirrel on the curb rises
sniffs the air
and starts to cross

late at night
a kiss in a bar
soft and tobacco-sweet
promises pastures
green and bright
beyond the war zone