dark of night
disembarking from a train
the only taxi
a Fiat from 1968
rattles down a cratered road
the hotel--
grand dream
of a butchered architect
a lone diner
eats the last plate of liver and chips
by kerosene lantern
a silver knife echoes
upon a porcelain plate
great wooden beams
reveal themselves in sputters of light
they lift the ceiling into shadow
~~~
in the quiet of a room
the clanking of the worn-out train returns
upon a stiff linen pillow
lies the jostling of travel
before sleep
while still digesting liver
a bright evening sun appears
half-remembered
small fish caught up in a net
hung upon a wall
a small round table
flakes of mahi-mahi in garlic butter
color of honey running down a fork
flavor of a long ago kiss-- the first
washed down with beer
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