Stainless steel table top
Spots of rain turned into mottled motifs
As one might find on oil slicks or lava lamps
Prickled points of container plants
Dead in their autumn shade
As one might find in Nash's paintings of lost hope
A time, a place
For the last time
For the last chase of words
Somewhere, on the way to somewhere else
A service station
For all of those folks who need a service
