Eddie Money

$12: enter a grimy back room

$8: two tiny cranberry vodkas

$4: check your winter coats 

$2: tip jar

then we bathe 

in the pulsating lights

that transport us to the 80s

where Eddie Money

echoes the sentiments 

rolling through our bodies, 

(anticipation is running through me)

then a phone call, too much booze,   

something happens that ruins the fantasy

(I don’t want to let you go) 

and we re-emerge into the freezing air,

and kiss against a chain link fence on Ave B, 

(I can feel you breathe)

until I am suddenly faced 

with emptiness and a dead end

(I get frightened in all this darkness) 

baited and switched

for a pretend

version of myself,

trapped in a corner, called crazy,

searching, waiting, wanting,

(I get nightmares)
please, just take me home.