Bartender of Barcelona
Margarita
Straight, No Salt

You always were
as the crow flies
Supposed, short-cuts to you
Led to meadow death traps instead

In such a rush

To reach no where
Running away from a book’s dust

Your feet are long gone
But then,
Who’s red pumps are those in the corner?
Are those footsteps I hear behind me?

Why
Is our song on?
Rocking my hips, to that slow salsa tune

I hear your heart beat
In that bar
of Barcelona

shake your head
shrug your shoulders
tousle your hair if you have to

just know
that bar
doesn’t close

Waiting, without end
For the lady in red

To have one last dance
On the worn floors

Of that Barcelona bar