but the love laid still
as a piece of wood
burnt out from tears
"at least was it good?"
i turned to look
and answer but could not

the stores were closed
the nights were dim
and every quarter
fell in and in
and in the depths of metal
found its place

the diner coffee
to greet the fog
a chain can't stop
a lonesome dog
with no desire or place
to run to

i placed my bid
and made a ball
from a towel soaked
in alcohol
to waste another
moment without meaning