Hats

I met Lillie in Belgium
her hair was in a bun
she
tested the current of the incoming squall
by French kissing me
as if a man

And Ostend is a windy town
that
blew us to an unmade room
a cyclone aided by mini-bar
brandy
sweat raining the sheets till
dawn

She is now a big star with a head for
hats
they fit her like leatherette shoes
in every
season, room and hallway
always avoiding the
news

of the world