Notions of darkness and shadows, violence and love, hardboiled.
Photography of Colorado and the American Southwest displaying nature and history.
All material on this blog is original creation by James Blatter unless otherwise noted
I watch her drag of a cigarette,
She is not content,
Desolation in the eyes,
Still she doesn’t belong here
Among the dive bars,
Pawn shops, flop hotels,
Whores, addicts and thieves
Where despair frequently travels.
Years ago I met another woman,
So very like her,
Lost in loneliness and isolation,
She caught me looking,
"So what’s on your mind, mister?"
She stubbed out the smoke,
"I was thinking you’re full of misery"
She nodded, hair shimmering in the neon.
"You’re observant for 1:30 a.m."
I gave her a thin smile
"I’ve discovered my husband keeps secrets"
She took a deep draw on her drink,
I waved the bar man for her next,
"Heinous secrets that don’t let me remain sober,"
She motioned me closer,
"My husband is a killer, he needs killed."
In the bar mirror our eye met,
Ten thousand dollars,
The amount written on a napkin,
The war changed things,
We both knew it, we learned,
Life had a price, it was cheap.
I nodded, depressed with myself.
Hotel desk bell rung, a key given
My last night in a cheap hotel,
Climbing the stairs I find a huge brute,
"Shame you met my Maria"
I was to close, defenseless
His hands close on my throat,
Drug me to my room, for a last image
Her eyes, her eyes were the worst.
Words by James Blatter
Photo found at Club Vintage