By Dana Jerman

Late Lunch Poem

It’s after 3
when I walk
in the freezing rain
to the indian burrito shop
for sides.

One miniature samosa collection
one pocket garden salad
one styrofoam cup
of basmati rice
with four different colored sauces.

I eat it slowly.
I eat it all.
It is delicious and inexpensive
which is the opposite
of what this town
is slowly
becoming.

Little Prayer

I don't believe in god,
but,
I said a little prayer
for your bike
and one
for its lock.

And I said a little prayer
for your friends,
and for the car
turning left
in front of them.

And I said a little prayer
for you,
and one for the man
sleeping at the bus stop.

And one for the cold night
that it wouldn't get colder.

And one for the lights
still on in the high hospital windows.

One for goodbyes
and safe returns.

One for the butterfly
clinging to the wall.

One for the drains
sweeping the water away.

And I got home ok.
And I said a little thanks
too
to whomever listening
for that.

Buying Luck (A Las Vegas Poem)

Girls to the left, ahead, back, right.
Girls to your room in the not-so-dead of night.
One more drink to get excited about
One less drop of down and out.
How about love in these years?
How about love in these years?

Not so hard to slip a minor silver coin
Into the machine of slots, lights, noise.
Walking a loose path toward a false guess.
Sit down and measure living’s tedious mess.
How about love in these years?
How about love in these years?

What’s left not to like about this game?
Every chance shows its spinning flame
Reflected back on the blackest blue.
The sun goes west and so will you.
And how about love in these years?
How about love in these years

Buying luck with soft licks of cash
Exhilaration alone empties your stash.
Planes cruise overhead, the planet turns
Palm tress sway, but no one learns
It’s all about love in these years.
So, how about love in these years?