The Bikini Tiki Lounge
Iconic, the second time
I listened to Moonlight Magic
sounds of cue balls
Modelo and PBR flows
jukebox green display glows
cash only for nights and sights
Rose with the bass beat
shuffling, dancing feet
hazy smoke follows Paul
as he makes his way to the patio
Grandpa’s ghost walks in
in uniform, his friends remember
places like this
but no piano plays Clair de Lune in France
as he weeps for home again
stickers on taps and mirrors
local bands and logos, have come and gone
memories of good music kept alive
by my humming
Wes Montgomery’s magic wand
waves over
Jaime’s guitarist fingers
comments, dialogue,
pleasing words, and critique
about the 3-car pile up
photos taken commemorating reading
with poets at the Nine
caffeine corridor memories
”Yeah, let’s dance”
“Here? Now?”
”Yes, always”
”But no one else is dancing”
*growling whisper* “even betterrrrr”
WhatsHerName Writes 