A Locksmith In Florida Keys

A lost key was looking for his owner Somewhere in the city. It may left be in a lot On a table In a cab seat In a puddle In a gutter God knows wherever else. Numbers punched on the cell phone For retrieve the god dam key A service van stopped And the locksmith picked the door. Owner entered his home Like a clute worker. When the curtains were drawn Sun light rushed into the room With a panoramic view of the ocean. Like a intruder Owener tip toed on the sofa Looking for a welcoming pet Wagging its tail. When his eyes are adjusted to the light The remants of the night showed up in a parade. Sweat soaked, wrinkled sheets were piled up on the bed Followed by an full ash tray with cigarette butts Empty vine glasses and plates left on the counter. Bathroom was a different story Damp towels were strewn on the floor And a lipstick message left on the mirror. From shower to the threshold Owener of the home detected memories Of an erotic encounter.