Saturday, May 03, 2008

W and H: A Saturday Poem


W & H


I think the sign, on the way in
Said Mello.
Either someone here has the surname
Or a “w” fell off last rainstorm.
Dishwater coffee, chipped ashtray,
And three a.m.
Whatever the case, I feel the latter thing
Mellow, just as a young whore looks my
Way. Maybe she isn’t one, and again
What’s with the “w”?
It’s not needed.
Why doesn’t it start with “h” and for
That matter why does “why” got one right
In the middle of it? My God. Here she is.

Perfume intoxicating, “I don’t, no…”
I mean, “Know the city,” I stammer.
“I do,” she says. Then, “Heloise.”
I shake her hand. “William,” I tap my ashes.
No silence was ever so quiet.
But oh, the things we exchanged, as I asked
“Where?”
“Here,” she smiled, her eyebrows pointing
To a staircase.

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2008

2 comments:

Isabella said...

Oh, I know that place, and miss it, and it is a surname.

cipriano said...

What an interesting comment!
Yes, the word "Mello" has umm.... geographical significance, but I would never have thought anyone would detect this.
Just for the record:
This poem has no other connections to anything experiential or even realistic or even autobiographical or even something I did once!