A jukebox holds
the room hostage
neon’s struggle
scratchy songs
labor in love
patrons huddle
in whispers
a black
checkered floor
receives night traffic
crumpled napkins
a phone
number written in red.
cracked seat cushions
welcome the
tired and depressed
a lone waitress
slow motion
hats tipped, heavy mascara
leather jackets
tattoos and toothpicks
the song skips
holding one word
no one notices
Roger Singer 