Better by Candlelight

This place's charms are oversold, I'd say.
I've had enough of pushing, sweating,
Through the crowds of goobers gawking
At the entrances of fetid dens of blinking
Lights and tinkling tools to take their cash.
I'm unimpressed by bumpkins dressed
As if they live in Hollywood or sell their
Bodies on the street. I'm tired of Italian
Cars, but here, my sweet, as darkness falls,
In room 1109 of this "luxurious and hip"
Hotel, a decent feast delivered to this little
Table overlooking endless lines of orange-lit
Streets, I start to feel myself enchanted,
Partly by this city's charms, but mostly
By the presence of the one who's been
Beside me since we flew here from
Our home.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 24 times
Written on 2012-06-01 at 14:03

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