|
One Man's Milwaukee,
Another Man's Prague
It's always winter in
the Prague of my mind.
But when I think of you
walking those cobblestone
sidewalks beneath sullen streetlights
that somehow leak light without actually
shining - you with three-day-old beard
and pocketful of poems,
fisting a bottle of Port,
singing songs out of tune
to the brunette on your arm,
the two of you laughing & looking like
a Bob Dylan album cover -
my imaginings of Prague grow warmer.
And on these lonely Milwaukee nights
when I'm starved for
a whiskey-drinking companion,
I feel you here with me.
I do.
Atlantic Ocean between us.
On another continent. In another hemisphere.
On the stool beside me here
in this hole-in-the-wall tavern
in Milwaukee, a city that could
be the Prague of America.
With you, friend, I raise my glass
and say this toast for the lonely
cities of our world:
May they never grow tired of our tears.
May you and I be greeted by dreams
at the end of these barstool nights
[Home]
|
|
