Skin, gin and sin city…..


 Skin, gin and sin city….


Pretty lady sat near me at the tavern and I said hello. She smiled and she came nearer. She caressed my military hair-cut and she asked. Soldier, coming home or going to war? I told her, the war is done for awhile. 
She spoke like a hooker in a high class Vegas club. She was. Her voice sweet and spicy. She whispered with a twisted smile, “skin, gin and sin city. Ambrosia for us who understand, the body demand payment, the gin taste better with ice and lemon juice. Sin city was built from the lowest form of life. Utopia for us who love to taste the dirt of living. You damn soldiers and I. Just selling and buying shit from liars and the naysayers.”


I told her, I loved her black dress, I loved her long legs, as long as highway 80 and you are a young man dream. You have the liar’s eyes of hazel, changing color with every emerging emotion you feel.


She smiled and she told me her name was Victoria, a lady’s name. I like you tavern poets, you can twist a tale from a empty bottle of gin. Please soldier, buy a lady a drink and I will sing you a song. I ordered two Tom Collins and two double shots of Jack.  She tasted the Tom Collin and she smiled. She whispered to me. Thank you dear soldier for the high class drink, today I am not selling and I am not giving it away either. Here is my promised song.

“Once I was a princess, I had a castle and wealth, I drank tea at noon and I was a Scottish princess.


I gave everything away for free, I learn being a princess, just a myth, lullabies for the innocence.


Now the lonely princess had learn, love shall turn sour, promises become lies, men like the girls, old age steal everything from us. No gold at the end of the rainbows, life is a wild ride, a great adventure, wisdom learn too late, don’t give everything away”


I looked at her face, still very beautiful and her eyes heavy with sadness. I told her. A wonderful song dear Victoria and my name is Johnnie. The words in your song are true. We are children for a New York minute, we rushed to love, seek dangerous kiss and we give everything away. I agree, everything demand payment. We learn too late. Don’t give everything away for free.


She smiled and she reached over, kissed my face-cheeks and my lips. She whispered, “you are a fancy-pant poet. I do like you, do you have time to take a lady to a jazz club. I love the jazzy song, make my hips want to move with the sad songs. I like the lonely songs, the wanting songs and the salvation of secret wishes in the words.


I smiled and I told her. I have five days before I have to report to Fort Ord, California. I love the blues too. I would be honored to take a Scottish princess dancing. She smiled, drank her whiskey and she took my hand and she whispered. You are very kind Johnnie.


A hot night in Las Vegas, skin, gin and sin city, the city that never sleeps, always alive, two strangers befriended each other, seeking the love of the damned.


                             Dancing Coyote

Category : poetry