Tonight's Poet Corner: Night At The Excalibur

Night At The Excalibur
by Belinda Roddie

We hustle and bustle to the street corner,
while the moon still hangs like our personal
talisman, to wave down a taxi. We carry heavy
stomachs, betrayed by pancakes and cold
coffee at a quarter past ten.

"Take us anywhere that has a jacuzzi,
free wi-fi, and a full fucking bar," says
Milo, tossing back his hair, his beautiful
androgyny on full display. He wants
the cabbie to take us to the best hotel
in town, in short.

The lights are a frozen white above our heads,
but the warmth is still radiating. Milo kisses
my hand as he walks me to the pool below
our luxury suite. We submerge, letting
the weight of our cheap diner meals slide
off us as easily as the water we float in. We lift

like bubbles in the spray. There is champagne
next to our bed, and we take our time drinking
it. We are only famished for each other.