Times Square burned daylight down
onto the avenue long after
the sunset's leftovers disappeared.
I moved from tavern to tavern
talking about girls and commas,
commas and girls.
My companion for the evening
was a tough guy from Cleveland,
and when a particular bouncer
decided he'd have enough of us,
my friend showed me the truth
behind his short stories.
We were the terrors of the Square
until his honey called, and the night
Back home, I am trying to tell
my story to a word processor,
but I picked up some faint scent
of yours in my hair, and now
my tired brain thinks only of you.