Night Long Commutes

Night Long Commutes short poem

Photo by Davy G.

Her last cigarette clouded the window
Of the only fluorescent-lit room
In the dusty motel
Off exit 168.

Yes sir, no sir
As she climbed into bed
Putting out her cigarette
On four-use one-wash sheets.

He clung to her
Until he had nothing left
To stain the 200 count linens
Found off exit 168.

Yes sir, no sir
Carried him home
As exits count down to the city
Away from dusty motels

Tuesday evening
“Confused eye contact in Aisle 3”
Isn’t called over the loudspeaker
Despite the clean-up it requires.

Responsibilities lost in fluorescent-lit rooms
Suddenly found on linoleum floors:
He’s with his wife
She’s dressed all in white.

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1 Comment on "Night Long Commutes"

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Nadeem Qazilbash
Member

A nice end to the commutes, finally with the lady in white, till death do them part.

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