"Mulberry Street" by Michael Chin

I live alone
one room hole
‘cross the street from a diner
called Rosaline's
where no one remembers
who Rosaline was.
Drink my coffee black
Saturday, Sunday mornings
in a back booth there,
sipping my hangover blues away.

Friday night
I walk over
the cracks and grooves
of Mulberry Street —
one way street
where I've lived ten years.
City stripped the road weeks ago
to repave it.
Haven't seen them since.

Drop some checks in the mailbox
Hesitate
and drop in a card for my little girl
12 years old next week.
Turn and head to the bar
and next thing I know
I'm sipping on rum and coke.
Betty comes to me
black cocktail dress.
From what I've heard
she's the kind of woman
throws out I-love-yous
like glass bottles
from a car,
just to hear them shatter
and see the sparkling shards.
Betty's been talking to me
a lot lately.

One drink turns to two to three
before long I'm spilling my story
like she's my oldest friend.
Guess all that matters
is she's listening tonight.
Doesn't hurt
that her cocktail dress
is looking shorter and shorter
and she keeps leaning closer.
Now she's telling me her story
‘bout some man
done her wrong
and some mother
never loved her.
Don't know if I believe a word of it.
But then she's got my hand in hers
and I've got her thigh in mine
and we're sitting closer.
I can see the twist of gray
in her curls
the wrinkles by her eyes.
Looks older from that close.
Old as me.

Few more drinks
and we're in my hole
loosening buttons,
saying stupid things,
making promises
with fingertips.

I wake
my head pounding.
Soon as I remember
Betty was there
I'm certain she's gone.
But roll over
and I'm not alone.
Betty's already awake
curls everywhere
head propped on her arm
eyes wide open.
For a second
she's the most beautiful thing
I've ever seen.

I lean and kiss her.
Then she sidles to me
kisses my nose.
Giggles
like a little girl.

Put on yesterday's clothes
leave the apartment.
Dawn broke hours ago
but my first daylight
stings my eyes.
We cross the street
to Rosaline's
It's a rocky road
but we make it to the other side.
Grab a seat by the window
I drink my coffee black,
she drinks hers
with sugar and cream,
and we sip our hangover blues away.