They took a photo in secret but the flash was still on so the girl looked up

Front jeans pockets are for blue tri-torch butane lighters
bent brass apartment door keys
cell phones waiting to be lost in the alley way art wall walk home
painted in samurai sunsets

back pockets are for Arturo Fuente
& Macanudo cigars half smoked
brown stained leather cow hide wallets
maxed out plastic

lips are for longing lovers lustful stumbles
in a lie i chant to myself as a poems song
barking at the empty nights cold air

the smoky lights flickering at 3 AM are the last call for drinks
live or let die conversation pieces

this morning tastes of gas station checkout lines
roast coffee cotton mouth
and one hour of flawless sleep i would fight Jesus himself for