Biscuits And Gravy

A Re-Visit to Donald Hall’s Bangers and Mash

as found in his latest collection -The Back Chamber

Rode bus across the plains all night, head

with hair still long, leaning

against cold window, then on foot

to a hostel.  Couldn’t sleep,

had a beer at noon, and rode the streetcar

from bottom to top of that SF hill,

and never for a moment thought

about taking a lonely picture,

then bused up alone to Spokane

where it looked like the bomb landed and drank

pints of the cheap shit before ever meeting anyone new.

Back at the station, used the phone

as light disappeared and all that was left was a gap

where sun had been and a head could’ve been

between shoulders and cheekbone,

instead in windows without curtains,

this nose, and understated chin,

and plain eyes -dazzled by a ‘maybe’

but sleepy, the assuaged eyes, soon closed

as the blink was all that came knowing the ear

one day would hear- “everything is lost.”


7 thoughts on “Biscuits And Gravy

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