Spin Cycle

Spin Cycle

It’s easy to fall in love 

In this little piano bar 

Her smoky voice worrying over 

Till There Was You 

Nursing a gin and tonic 

Long, black tresses swept to one side 

Like a tent flap 

Open to her secret places. 

Harder to find love 

At the All-Nite Laundromat 

Drums spinning 

Soap and bleach stinging the moist air 

Coat hangers tangled 

Rattling in wire carts 

Florescent lights pushing back the night. 

At the piano bar I’d freshen her drink 

Put on a crooked smile 

Like a rumpled shirt. 

Look at those long legs 

Stretching like divided highways 

Into the dark tunnel of that red skirt. 

I’d ask her name 

And she’d say 

Call me what you want to, baby. 

Her name’s Roxy 

Her drink’s just fine 

And those long legs have walked on 

Better men than me. 

But there’s no room for piano bars 

At the All-Nite Laundromat 

Where I have a date 

With two weeks of laundry 

And both my shirts and heart 

Are on spin cycle.