Cottonwood Suite

 

 

Iron Horse Inn

 

At the bar next door

The townie with caterpillar moustache

And deep-rooted drawl

Told me you were originally a whorehouse

Many narrow rooms for bigger returns

Built from head sized river rock and cement

Too costly to tear down

 

Now you are boutique, prim and clean

Like a cactus flower after spring rain

Narrow stairs to the second floor

Steep as Aztec ruins

Ascending the sacrificial alter

 

In my room wide enough for one bed

I received her text

Saying we were over

I stayed up keeping company

With daughters of joy orbs

Copper miner lustful spirits

Lost souls thin as parchment

 

 

 

Fatal Coffee at Red Rooster

 

With hurricane force

The fly was flung to my cup

Outdoor patio furious fans

Chopped humid air to pieces

Flinging the fly to morning coffee peril

 

Teaspoon rescue too late

It lay motionless on the placemat

Stained glass wings in stiff repose

Liquid cream and coffee casket

It died as rapidly as our romance

 

 

 

Leaving Cottonwood

 

I took a back street out of town

A charcoal cat traces across the road

Under quilt shadows of tall aspens

Bony hunched shoulders expect attack

Skirts to a tired house with sagging steps and porch

Slumped and worn from a century

Of comings and goings

 

Thanks to the fan, fly or act of God

I had a free cup for the drive home

Two nights before we made love

Then planned our future