Man Alive

she wondered
is he being expansive,
or waving away
her cigarette smoke?
could she ever love him
in that shirt?
would she have to close her eyes
real tight at night?
the notion of
a late night cab back
to his thrifty bedclothes
deserted her that moment.

she looked for inspiration
in the faux chandelier
that hung above the bar
full of wrinkled veins
gently squeaking livers
wondering nearly aloud
how she was sat so close to failure
what terrible crime in a string
of past lives had she committed
to end up sipping vermouth
at six thirty
with the man from C&A

the bright young things passed her by
their spirit soaked auras
reflecting in the puddles
bouncing booze beams
over Victorian buildings
him, still sat in the pub
wondering where she went
when he went to fetch the drinks
she walked to the sea
watched goateed grown ups
swirl around on skateboards
perhaps all the men in this town
were fatally flawed
she couldn't cry about it anymore
sat in a bus shelter
scanned the horizon
just above the waves
for a man who could dress himself.