Her eyebrows are painted on, slightly angled
in a Catwoman cartoon kind of way, fishnets
torn straight across her thigh, she's holding an
unlit Pall Mall, skinny purse banging her hip.
I’m Dylan with his hands jammed in pockets
shoulders hunched, both of us seriously under
dressed for winter, her hair dyed black chopped
short but still hiding her eyes she catches my
attention with a wink, asks for a light, I tell her
I quit smoking, gave it up for Lent, she nods
says babes I only need your fire, she’s sincere
in that real as shit street life worn down but not
out kind of way. I ask to bum one from her, she
hands it to me, nails a chipped champagne pink,
I give her a five, brace for the incoming rain.
Alex Stolis lives in Minneapolis; he has had poems published in numerous journals. Two full length collections Pop. 1280, and John Berryman Died Here were released by Cyberwit and available on Amazon. His work has previously appeared or is forthcoming in Piker’s Press, Jasper's Folly Poetry Journal, Beatnik Cowboy, One Art Poetry, Black Moon Magazine, and Star 82 Review. His chapbook, Postcards from the Knife-Thrower's Wife, was released by Louisiana Literature Press in 2024. http://www.louisianaliterature.org/2024/04/11/new-release-announcement-alex-stolis/ RIP Winston Smith is forthcoming from Allen Buddha Press. He has been nominated multiple times for the Pushcart Prize.
