She leaves Today the prettiest lady in the warehouse Left the warehouse and everything is so sad The walls are sad The floor, the tables are sad And men’s legs and faces are sad Because they won’t be able to see That wonderful body in tight jeans Or knit pants strut down the aisles again Blond hair swaying—walking with a vigorous Athletic stride And she was usually smiling because the men Would be smiling and dreaming And I was so sad… thinking I had a chance with her Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t At home she had two kids and a husband But she would smile at me and call me “honey” And we would make eye contact and I would stare Lustfully at her body, and we would smile At each other— Things like that keep you going through days Which are like empty boxes I wanted to ask her out, and to kiss And to get behind her and… But not having the guts or the energy, Or always feeling ashamed because there was Always someone around, whenever we got a chance to speak To one another I would say wait till tomorrow… always tomorrow… waiting for Tomorrow… but tomorrow never came And I think of all the other girls on the ancient Highway of memory—all missed opportunities, Waiting in the fog of moment All gone; perhaps some will be remembered While eating a red apple, Then remembering a face, and forgetting a name Or remembering a name and forgetting a face I hold a requiem for the moment, While being past the moment—ashamed of my Cowardice and my sorrow, While riding down a torn boulevard of regret