Without You

I lean a little

To the left

Or right

As if

I'm missing something

A rib

Perhaps

Memphis

Sleeps in the day

Dreams of

Itinerants

Tourists who stay

In downtown

Hotels

And move shade to shade

But the evening

Blues

Has called her awake

And she

Jeweled in neon

And modestly draped

In her black-water

Wrap

Hosts a thousand

Soirees

Old Dog

Wandering again through each

Stale room

Looking for what

He knows

The man who gives him food

Who talks to him and

Strokes him by the chair

He knows the startling

Snap

Of its footrest

He knows the loud

TV

And the push and pull of snoring at night

But he doesn't know the somber one who

Now fills his bowl

Now talks to him soft and

Childlike

He doesn't understand the empty chair

The quiet nights

The silent

TV

Or where they took his man

Still asleep