No Title Poem by Marco Driver

On a rainy night
A man walks across the street
Towards misty faces
He can see
Through frosted glass
A black and white movie

The music plays
Tones of grey blues
In a bar
Under a steel bridge
Filled
With femme fatal
A black and white movie

Everybody has a story
But
There’s nobody to listen
He walks in
Drenched in city smells
And orders a whisky
Neat
A black and white movie

Near the door
A wood phone booth
At the bar
A poker-faced bar tender
In the corner
A smoking dame
A black and white movie

As I sit
And drink whisky
I look around
At the world in color
And sometimes
I wish
It would change
Into
A black and white movie