On Valentine’s Day

I hopped a train and headed for
Huntington Beach, Valentine’s Day.
People drank in the train cafe:
wine and cheap champagne, extra dry.
People hoping to find love while we chugged along
The Pacific Ocean.
I fixed, took a nap downstairs in the baggage room,
next to the bathrooms,
my sunglasses glue to my junk-riddled face.
A woman came down the stairs,
looking for someone…me I guess.
“Let’s fuck, take me in the
bathroom and fuck me!”
Her red lips and black
tank top
Doc Marten’s
fishnet stockings
all looked good on her thick and lovely build;
thick like Marilyn; with grace like Norma Jean.
I opened the door of the bathroom,
set her on the sink.
I ripped her stockings and slowly pushed it in.
She moaned and smiled as I
gripped her long black hair,
tight to her pretty skull.
We finished a simultaneous triumph.
She left the door open, went back up the stairs to find a seat.
I never even caught her name.

And I never saw her again…

Poem by me. Train photo I got here 



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