"The Repainted Devil, Part I" by Giovanni Dania

The Repainted Devil, Part I

She looked almost grateful, as the claret ebbed out of her
Into the shower drain of a dingy motel room.
I thought of the work involved
As I took the bone saw out of my satchel:
I was exhausted already
Having spent across her braces.

She had looked upon me with such trust in her eyes.

The head on the thirty-year old American TV
Said that a storm was brewing.
I grumbled in frustration
As I prepared my Glad bags.
Her pogo stick lay against a corner of the dingy motel room,
Ignored.

Rain started beating a palsied Latin rhythm against the windows.
I heard a rumble of thunder.
And I felt like dancing,
Her arm in my hands.
But I only had the room for another twenty minutes.

July 8, 2003