One Lucky Bastard

I was playing pool at my local bar
late one Monday night.
Nobody plays on Mondays,
just me, a cue and fifteen balls
bashing our heads together over
vodka straight up

Just as I broke, a sweet young thing
in a black leather jacket, red boots
and a blue streak bleached through
her hair rolls in

I’m leaning over, about to make my bank
shot when she moves in real close.
I can smell her perfume mixed with
something lower that drives me fucking
crazy.

“Buy me a drink,” she says, “and l’ll show
you how to use that stick.”
“Cue stick you mean?”
“Yeah whatever, I’ll have what you’re drinking,
but on the rocks.”

She showed me alright. She was solids, I was
stripes but I never had a chance. Puss ‘n Boots
wiped the table clean. Finished her drink and said:
“You live around here?’ “Yeah, I live close by, you
want to come over?”
“Sure, let go.  You got something to drink at your place.”
“Whatever you want.”

So we walk to my flat just off of Soledad. I hand her
a beer, we sit on the couch as this awkward silence
settles in around us.

I say, “So my name’s Jim, what’s yours?”
She chugs her beer, looks at me and says:
“Look, do you want talk or do you want to fuck?”
My mouth dropped open, a little surprised,
as she pushed me down on the floor.

Man, sometimes I’m so fucking lucky.