Some Time To Kill
I had some time to kill
So I wandered around
Looking in shop windows.
The sign outside said
The Mystery Club.
Out of curiosity
I stepped inside.
None of the barstools
Looked alike.
They all had different
Shapes and colors.
This gave the place
An unsettling, chaotic vibe.
The bartender approached me
And asked what I wanted.
Her gender was not
Readily apparent
Though for some reason
I was not bothered by this.
He was quite beautiful
And I asked for a light.
She brought me a candle
Shaped like a seahorse
And a glass of whiskey.
As I raised the glass
To my lips
I noticed the woman
Sitting to my left.
She was a redhead
Slight in stature
Wearing a short, form fitting
Quizzical expression.
She leaned in close and
Asked if I came here often.
I smiled and kissed
Her slowly as the
Seahorse swam carefully
Up my arm and
On to my shoulder.
On a small makeshift stage
In the corner of the room,
A busty blond,
Cigarette hanging from
Her too full lips,
Played Beethoven as if
Her life depended on it.
I asked the Redhead
If she wanted to dance.
She slapped me hard,
Took my hand
And led me out
On to the dance floor.
My cheek stung
From the blow
And I wondered
What was next.
We swayed to the music
Until a big beefy fellow
Grabbed me by the shoulder
And spun me around.
She was obviously his girl
Though at that particular moment
I was more concerned
About the welfare
Of the Seahorse
To tell you the truth.
As it turned out
I was mistaken.
The big fella was looking
For his misplaced heart
And had been told
That I might have a clue
As to its whereabouts.
With great reluctance
I surrendered
The seahorse to him.
He left with the redhead
After all
And I realized
It was time for me to go.
It was then the officer
Entered the bar.
He strode directly
Up to me and inquired
If I was the one
Reported to be killing time.
I admitted to my crime
And he read me my rights
As he applied the handcuffs
To my wrists.
You have the right to
Your opinion but
Don’t expect anyone
To give a damn.
If you express
Those opinions, they can
And will be used against you
At every turn.
Do you understand
These rights he asked?
I was distracted,
Still thinking
About that seahorse.
The cop led me out
Into the street.
The sunlight was blinding
As we walked over to his car.
Suddenly the radio
On his hip
Blurted out the truth
About me.
The officer was so moved
That he released me
From my bonds and
Handed me his keys.
I thanked him,
Opened up his cruiser door
And helped him inside.
As he pulled away
I noticed the sticker
Affixed to his bumper.
I brake for seahorses
It said.
Scott DuRoff 3/2012
I had some time to kill
So I wandered around
Looking in shop windows.
The sign outside said
The Mystery Club.
Out of curiosity
I stepped inside.
None of the barstools
Looked alike.
They all had different
Shapes and colors.
This gave the place
An unsettling, chaotic vibe.
The bartender approached me
And asked what I wanted.
Her gender was not
Readily apparent
Though for some reason
I was not bothered by this.
He was quite beautiful
And I asked for a light.
She brought me a candle
Shaped like a seahorse
And a glass of whiskey.
As I raised the glass
To my lips
I noticed the woman
Sitting to my left.
She was a redhead
Slight in stature
Wearing a short, form fitting
Quizzical expression.
She leaned in close and
Asked if I came here often.
I smiled and kissed
Her slowly as the
Seahorse swam carefully
Up my arm and
On to my shoulder.
On a small makeshift stage
In the corner of the room,
A busty blond,
Cigarette hanging from
Her too full lips,
Played Beethoven as if
Her life depended on it.
I asked the Redhead
If she wanted to dance.
She slapped me hard,
Took my hand
And led me out
On to the dance floor.
My cheek stung
From the blow
And I wondered
What was next.
We swayed to the music
Until a big beefy fellow
Grabbed me by the shoulder
And spun me around.
She was obviously his girl
Though at that particular moment
I was more concerned
About the welfare
Of the Seahorse
To tell you the truth.
As it turned out
I was mistaken.
The big fella was looking
For his misplaced heart
And had been told
That I might have a clue
As to its whereabouts.
With great reluctance
I surrendered
The seahorse to him.
He left with the redhead
After all
And I realized
It was time for me to go.
It was then the officer
Entered the bar.
He strode directly
Up to me and inquired
If I was the one
Reported to be killing time.
I admitted to my crime
And he read me my rights
As he applied the handcuffs
To my wrists.
You have the right to
Your opinion but
Don’t expect anyone
To give a damn.
If you express
Those opinions, they can
And will be used against you
At every turn.
Do you understand
These rights he asked?
I was distracted,
Still thinking
About that seahorse.
The cop led me out
Into the street.
The sunlight was blinding
As we walked over to his car.
Suddenly the radio
On his hip
Blurted out the truth
About me.
The officer was so moved
That he released me
From my bonds and
Handed me his keys.
I thanked him,
Opened up his cruiser door
And helped him inside.
As he pulled away
I noticed the sticker
Affixed to his bumper.
I brake for seahorses
It said.
Scott DuRoff 3/2012