The last chance saloon


The last chance saloon

 

 

I was the Monday night closer manager at the Purgatory Inn. I was counting the money and a pretty lady was waiting for me. I watched her roll her cigarette and I enjoyed the view of her black lingerie stocking on her long legs, her long black hair reaching down deep into her back and I told her. 1/2 hour sweeties, do you want a drink?

 

She smiled and she told me. “Whiskey straight, maybe a double, maybe one or two ice cubes.” I poured three Black Velvet whiskey shots into a regular drink glass and I dropped two ice cubes in. I went to her and I handed the drink to her. She over-reached the drink, caressed my hand. She whispered, hurry up Johnnie. Never polite to allow a girl to drink alone.

 

I finished my work and her drink was empty. I brought the Black Velvet whiskey to her. I filled her cup with the whiskey. She smiled and she told me. “I appreciate the ride home, Washington Township, a long way away when damn car is dead.” I smiled and I told her. My pleasure dear Brooke. Her eyes were wild and free, she licked her lips and she went into deep thoughts. She whispered. “Did you promise me a poem once? Was I just a tale, you told, to make a pretty girl smile?”

 

I told her. Beautiful lady, you are poetry. Do you want sweetness, love, madness  or some sadness? She took my hands, brought them to her soft legs and she kissed me warmly. She whispered. Make me believe, I am the only one.

 

” Last chance saloon

 
The lights are low, the Jazz was good.
My dark eyes beauty pulled me closer.
She whispered, honey, poet and my love.
Let’s make this night hotter than death valley,
make me want everything and more.

 

I whispered to her, baby, sweetie and my dark angel of the night.
You are darker than the night,
sweeter than the honey wine and
more dangerous than the sea sirens.

 

I want you alone,
to be able to take off those stocking of black silk,
roll my hands up and down your tender legs.
I want to look into those eyes and fall into madness.

 

I want to see, only you,
swim in your eyes of coffee brown and fall into your words forever.
You are my Black Velvet kiss and my only wish, my last wish.”

 

She drank the whiskey and she smiled. She stood-up and she took my hand. She brought me close to her and we danced to the Jazz playing softly. She whispered, “Way down we must go, so low we can’t see the daylight. Where lover’s go, when the night is long and we cannot be alone. You and I. Three am dancer praying for a miracle.

 

Dancing Coyote