mike taylor, three poems –

10am Bar Not Crowded

10 am bar not crowded
only bar-maid, me n russ
good artist from up the street
doin shots
no beer just whiskey
barmaid’s pouring 2 for
every 1 we buy
nice chick…I mean real nice
to me n russ
cause otherwise she’d be
bored and have to watch
soaps or some other crap
now she can hear drunk poet
and drunk artist
talking
laughing
dreaming
russ sayin he’s anxious
for his show on the weekend
I’m saying
we need another shot
to the barmaid
cause the poem will show
when it shows
while russ stares into space
and dreams of
brush strokes or drips
or whatever it is he thinks about
just know when done his
art is pretty damn good
me n russ don’t have
much in common
other than whiskey in morning
and both of us trying to
get the bar-maid
not much of a poem
or art piece but
now that i think about it
pretty good way to
spend the morning


Me And Nadine

was working as a part time bouncer
at a strip joint down on Colfax avenue
me and a cop named rick
would sit at the door and check id’s
and hustle drunks out if they got crazy
after work we’d go to the coffee shop
down the street with some of the girls
and eat breakfast
then we’d make sure the girls got
to their cars safely
sometimes i’d go home with one of ‘em
you know, just casual like
until shiloh the manager and very hip chick
introduced me to a new girl, nadine
and would I look after her
she was young and pretty and wore
incredible pink lipstick on perfect lips
the first night she went with us
to the coffee shop and i walked her
to her car and made sure she drove away
the next night after breakfast
she took my hand and told me she
wanted to come to my place
so we walked the few blocks to
my apartment, went inside
and immediately went to bed
we made love quietly, honestly
the next day she moved in
and we spent the next few months
living and loving together
neither of us were using heavily
just a taste every now and then
to stay straight was all
she asked if I wanted the money
she made at the club….I told her no
She asked if I wanted her
to work the streets like
her last man….i told her no
we’d spend our days walking and talking
and holding hands like first time lovers
we made love daily and stared at each other
with need in our eyes
the apartment filled with smiles and
the smell of bodies after sex
she didn’t know much about poetry
but would come to the readings
and when I’d finished she’d smile
from the table and press her
pink-lipsticked lips against my cheek
when I sat down
then one afternoon i came home
and she’d packed up and left
i walked to the strip joint
shiloh was waiting for me and
handed me a folded sheet of paper
i opened it up and read
‘love you, nadine’
with her pink-lipsticked lips
planted underneath those words
i stuffed the paper in my pocket
and went across the street
to a bar and sat and drank
whiskey all night long…..
but we had a time, though
me and Nadine
during those late night/early morning
east colfax days of searching and need
yea, we had a time
me and
nadine


The Bone

heart split
sure dream
w/spit
of tested reality
walking towards it all
face brightly lit from
/those thousand candles
rosary-laced fingers
lead prayer shawls
bent in quiet desperation
some savior
hip to it all
’cept for heaven and earth
walks in w/air of
self-importance
causes quite a stir
w/ladies of the morning
meanwhile
across the courtyard
ink dried up so
writer uses blood
on cracked sidewalk
of deepening sorrow
vacant eyes
reaching for truth
well wishers kneel
alongside the empty casket
as ashes from
a thousand poems
scatter in the wind
as always
the bone
the
bone
hard

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