Open the door dear lover

Open the door my dear lover…

I told the bartender at the Downtown Austin tavern, I was born sick. My mind twisted and wrong. I was born poor and now I have enough. I have  been a dancer, I have been a taker. I have tasted love and I known hate. I made people bleed and I have bleed for things gone. I have lost and found God often. I was the soldier who learn to pray when the guns were a-brazing. I met the Devil here in Austin once. He bought the Scottish whiskey and he taught me the liar’s song.

“The liar’s song

The prettiest gal in Austin whispered to me,

Come and get it baby,

the night is long, lonely and the bed is cold alone.
She had ginger hair, black dress and eyes of green.

I told her, love demand payment.

How much will you take? Steal?
She smiled and she whispered, open the door dear lover.

Never leave a gift-horse and in Texas,

we don’t want ownership, we want the long ride and the hot nights.

Love isn’t found in Austin,

just bright lights and pretty things.
I brought her closer and I whispered.

I love you already and she smiled. Told me.

I love you too.”

The bartenders laughed at my words and he poured me a double shot of Jimmy Walker. He smiled and he pointed at a ginger hair beauty wearing a tight black dress watching me from the darkness, her eyes so demanding, so cold. They could freeze the sun. He pushed the drink toward me and he told me. The pretty lady told me. For you to drink the whiskey and come on over, if you are brave enough. She said you made promises and you went AWOl.

I watch her while downing down the whiskey. She was barefoot and I watched her feet move with the song. She was a fine memory and a poet’s dream, maybe a nightmare? Dear Delia, once made me beg for mercy and we found equal ground for a time in the Winter of 95. I was deployed away to Iraq  and we never exchange addresses. 

I went to her. She stood-up and embraced me tightly. I tried to apology and she put her right hand to my mouth and she  whispered. Soldier, soldiers must do what they must. I heard the soldiers left in January and I am glad you are not dead. It is Summer time in Texas and the night is still so damn hot. I have cold beer, iced-up and Jimmy Walker in mass at my house. I been waiting on a prayer. Someone who like the wicked dance and the he knows the  liar’s prayer. I missed my Michigan poet.

She wrapped her arms around me and I smelled the sweetness of perfume on her soft skin. I asked her. If I knock on your door, will you open the door for me? She whispered honey, sweetie, lover. I gave you the key once. The door is wide open and the music is already playing. The deepest jazz, you ever heard. I smiled and I whispered. I love you dear Lelia and she kissed my neck and face. She whispered, I love you too.

                          Dancing Coyote