The Last Glass of Chocolate Milk (Version #2)

Stadium lights infiltrate my eyes from your tenth floor home

The heat raises my body temperature, I want to take off my clothing.

Plastic flowers line the tables and window sills.

Live plants hang from hooks in the ceiling.

I remember the curved green couch on the Park Terrace.

Black squirrels eating peanuts from my palm, and that of your husband.

Chocolate candy coated, tuna fish and the unforgettable scent;

Of which I cannot explain to you now.

Your bad breath, a slight whisker from your cheek.

The bluest eyes, like mine; that speak love.

And I still try to find ‘a nice girl.’

I’ll let you know when I have, or when I did.

Your sagging breasts and bulging blind eye.

The sweetest woman who knew my brain waves.

A smile I’ll never forget when you counted,

One Dollar, Two Dollars.

The red knitted ribbon that hangs on my entrance.

Your senior MTA card sits in a drawer.

You lie in rest in peace beneath my earth.

In a pine wood box you dissolve. 

But I must be honest,

I don’t think it was in 10S.

But only on the Terrace,

When I got my last glass

of chocolate milk.

© 2006 David Greg Harth

06.01.25.01:09:11@205HudsonNYC