Little Nights

Don’t dance with me.

This is lovers’ music.

And tonight

My heart’s just a half size too small for you.

Those old smiles and sideways words are falling far away.

This is a little night

Full of smalls and shorts and marks just missed.

Eyes brush past eyes.

Promises lie like pebbles

In the water rings on the bar.

And we’re still pint sized souls

Crab walking through the sawdust on this empty floor.

Tonight my smile’s in a bottle.

While this song laps around my ears,

I’ll curl myself around a cold chrome stool,

Let white neon fill up my head,

Remember other times than these.

The whisky still has a taste

And my legs have bones

So you can fold that act up into all your shadows

And take it on down the road.

Behind the Scenes: This poem is one of several published in Saturday Afternoon, an annual anthology of Southern California writers. It's inspired by many late nights writing in the beachside cafes of Venice and Santa Monica.