Love’s Taxicab Blues in Dub or 2am observations in IHOP
For an international house of pleasure
this playlist is somehow
going for it. Across the table I watch
a fork gently play itself into
syrup soaked cakes. I was tasting
my own as I looked on. Chewing the way you chew when
you don’t want to finish. I think how?
I was supposed to be sleep by now.
Day already into overtime as I count hours
Now 30. Eyes hang coffee cup heavy
Instead I’m here
Observing longing
Thinking that…
Multiple sets of cutlery on cheap plates
plays in my head like metal bed frames
creaking under the weight of hunger
They had The Whispers knocking a little bit ago
I’m still getting up at 5:30am
4 thoughts on "Love’s Taxicab Blues in Dub or 2am observations in IHOP"
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I’d swing by the Ihop on Nicholasville road with my coworkers after the night shift ended, every other Friday or so and we’d be there til dawn. this poem captures a lot of the essence of those nights!
This poem is tip-top. I feel myself getting stronger reading it.
love
Thank you