View from 777 Motel

Across the street from the taco place –
with music and young waitresses
wearing practically nothing,
smiling extra big for a more than 20% tip –
is a motel with thirty-five rooms,
and even more barred up windows.
On the 3rd floor,
through the tops of palm trees
and the roofs of inherited homes in
Surfside, I watch Catalina Island rise from an
emerald sea.
Next door is the sushi place;
I always drink and even fix before I enter,
so I can deal with all the snobs who
work behind the bar;
not the real people who work in back
with the decapitated fish,
and hidden bottles of hot sake.
Sam’s Seafood is next to the sushi place:
with live music,
mostly Blues and Jazz,
and the old black piano that sits in the corner,
waiting for me to play a song that will
long be forgotten before the
morning sun shines
through the rusted bars of my lonely window
at the 777 Motel,

3rd floor.

 

2 thoughts on “View from 777 Motel

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