The Inn of the Beginning Bar and Grill

The heat was merciless, and it was on.
We could not recall how we had come so far,
no destination but for slaked desire.
Look, distracted by distances, destitute

in spite of credit, we have no business here
and never gave a damn about permissions.
Taillights shimmer in smog of intersections,
agents track us in the forbidden city

to a cul de sac where carcasses trundle on hooks.
We huddle while a leering worker chants,
"you are about to have an industrial accident."
Suddenly as a backfire, everything stopped.

We woke, kindly and affectionate; we saw
that time, as if an accelerator, would unleash
us; sensitive to our touch, our miles, our wish
here at the Inn of the Beginning Bar and Grill.