Love Barely Escapes The Lobby Poem by John W. McEwers

We can be a little silly sometimes, if I remember correctly
Where the hall light intrudes upon a darkened room
And we don’t wait for beds, cause it’s off with our
Pants, and they slide down dry shins to carpet.

It’s cold in the room, December-y, and gifts are tucked
Under everything; little liquor bottles in the cabinet under the
Television, chocolate under a napkin on the night-stand,
Lobster thermador under a shiny silver silo on a push cart.

If I could order love from room service, I think I would
request someone to your specifications, but I know
That would break the bank, and I’d be left eating
Continental breakfast with morning strangers.

I love our time together, Molly,
You don’t cost anything.