Outside And Inside & Then You

We left the Summer too long, that is ran off and absconded, turned to Autumn, made blue skies red.

I got told that
there’s a girl for every thought,
by a man with brown eyes.
He took a train South at
nine fifteen with a bought
bag of lies tucked between forearm
and chest; below the neck but still high enough.

Hide behind new names
devised by haircut disasters and
rum, gin and past-their-sell-by-date jokes,
thought up in hotel lobbies
in front of a front desk clerk,
oblivious to everything but hotel work.