Dancing in the dark with you dear Daniela…
I was drinking whiskey alone and I was listening to the good jazz. A pretty auburn lady sat with me and she asked me, what are you drinking? I turned to her and I adored her honest face, her black tight dress and her dark brown eyes. I told her. The drink of the poet. Gentleman Jack. Easy to drink and you need no chaser. She smiled and she told the female bartender, please two double shot of the Gentleman Jack for my new friend.
We received the whiskey and we touched glasses. She told the night, to good music and honest men. We drank the whiskey down and she told me. I liked the poets, they write of love and they don not believe in love. The poets, like writers like to make life easy and sweet. And the damn poets, drinking themselves to dear. Are you another Hemingway? Killing yourself slow and easy?
I told her. Hemingway did things his way and today. So difficult to do things our ways and my name is Johnnie, crazed man needed some jazz and some Gentleman Jack tonight. She laughed at his words and she told him. Men, who tell you they are saints and they do not drink. I hate the sober men, their flat voices and useless words make me seek distance from them. My favorite men are the poets. They sing pretty words and they want nothing from you. I love when a man can read words to me in the night and make me feel pretty and wanted. Their secret love words, gold to a frozen heart. I yearn for the secret love songs in the night. My name is Daniela.
I took her right hand and I held her hand. I told her. One more double shot of Gentleman Jack and than we can find the dancefloor. My old legs need the whiskey, make legs move better and my poetry sweeter dear Daniela.
She smiled and she told him. I am ugly with sadness and I could be bad company. Maybe the whiskey night we may need only?
I told her. You are perfect Daniela. You speak the truth and I see in your eyes. A great storm needing someone to make you loco again. The night is young, the jazz is so good and pretty lady. Please dance with me. I would owe you everything I own.
She laughed and she told him. I like you my drunk poet. You make me smile and I would be happy to dance with you. The jazz is good and I like your voice. You give no promises and you make me feel good. Maybe everything you own is what I need.
Coyote