AROUND THE CORNER OF MIDNIGHT
He’s gonna’ drink that ale
and watch the action,
see what there is to see,
catch a dance or two if somethin’
long-legged ’n lovely catches his eye.
He’s gonna’ dance real close,
slink tight to her swivel ’n
just about die wanting to look
to see do I notice.
Then he’ll sit with his boys,
his fingers pushing circles of wet
glass-sweat across the tiny table top,
while he scans the room,
so he won’t appear to be
in a hurry to strut over here.
Yeah, I see him over there,
hangin’ out ’n lookin’ cool
in tight jeans ’n gold chains,
but if he wants me, he’s gonna’
have to show me just what it is he’s got.
I ain’t walkin’ around the corner
of midnight for just any guy.
I only got one heart ’n right now
it still belongs to me.
—from Rattle #22, Winter 2004
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Lorraine Merrin: “I love the green and wet of the Pacific Northwest, where I now live. However, I am a child of the Southwest desert and that dry, heat-soaked landscape and its people are in my blood. In that same way, stories and poems are in my heart; they tumble out, waiting to be connected to and carried away by the mouths and hearts of others.” (website)
