Poem: Outside the Ritz-Carlton

 

 Outside the Ritz-Carlton

Pine bowers and electric stars
strung on the canopy over-top
three blonde bouffants of scrappy
imperfection with locks straying
like deft housecats into heated
territory familiar and claimed. 
Three high-heeled pair of black
boots and as a yellow cab glides
to a perfect stop, three cigarettes
smashed until their fanned glow
is hypothetical as any after-life,
including reincarnation which
aligns with a felt logic of follies
we blindly interpret as suffering.

_____
Sarah Sarai, published in Helix (Central Connecticut State University), 2008.