"The Poetry" by William Taylor Jr.

We were leaning on the bar

at the weekly open mic

and I mentioned how all

the poets were bad

and he nodded and said

that's okay I don't come here

for the poetry

I just like it when she sometimes

wears that dress

and I like how she laughs when she's drunk

and the way she touches my arm

sometimes when telling stories

he said last week we just got

drunk in the alley

and missed the whole damn thing

and I said I thought you didn't

come here for the poetry

and he laughed and said

I guess I do.

"A Few Hours of Daylight" by William Taylor Jr.

I'm on a paid week off of work

and I'm sitting at a sidewalk table

in North Beach on a Tuesday afternoon

I'm drinking stout beer

and working on poems

and “Me and Mrs. Jones”

is playing at just the right volume

from the little speakers mounted on the wall

and the woman who just sat down

at the table next to mine

has a pretty smile

and an adorable hat

the breeze sends the smell of her

in my general direction

and there are still a few hours of daylight

left to do with as I please

so fuck death and the rest of your

petty bullshit.