January 2006 /Volume Seven / Issue One
Miguel Garcia
Friday Night with James Cagney

one night you'll go out to a bar
or be invited to a party
you'll walk in and have a drink
stand alone and watch the scene

some boy will approach you
because he couldn't resist
the locking gaze of your eyes
or the shape and arrogance of your ass
or the Superior queen like
way you entered the room
without even trying

he'll be beautiful of course
the conversation will strike fast
he'll be an artist, nothing else would do
you'll discuss poetry, painting or music
politics other people at the party
or all of the above
getting drunker & laughing hard
play some pool
as every body else mills around
bored and dissatisfied

without warning or in a moment
of lost words
you'll both move in
and kiss
maybe he knows about me
maybe he doesn't
neither of you care

you'll go back to his place
the bed sheets will quickly fall to the floor
the night will be long
but it won't seem that way
you'll whisper, "fuck me"
with your face buried in the pillow
muffling the groans

and i'll be here
with a beer i find good for the night
watching some old black and white movie
james cagney dieing blood again