Last Call
-- by Mike Dockins

Would it be possible, worthwhile, practical, moral,
expedient, intellectual, banal, metaphysical, silly,
galling, ironic, even necessary to exalt your pony-
tail? Loose strands dip into rum&cokes, beers,
desperate waters at closing time. Please, a moment
of silence because I can't drink from any of them.
Your ponytail wags, slaps D.J. barking last call.
I would hide under it, fan a breeze of words along
your spine, each vertebra gasping a little poem.
I'd hide under it next to your tattoo: a Chinese
symbol for lemon tree, for balloon, for sparkplug,
god help me, I wasn't listening to what you said.