There is a beautiful woman
in my room
a woman from India in a
long white nightgown
shoulders trimmed with lace
She has reddish brown
bristly cut hair
and when it's hot
somewhere around noon
she fans herself with a magazine

Outside the door lies a green hose
it runs across the sidewalk
all the way to the corner
it's eight o'clock and the sky is grey
I ignore the boy beside me
he's kind but he's in love with me
and trembles the whole time
I drink coffee, smoke a cigarette
look at the corner
and hope she'll come back

I have a beautiful woman in my room
I don't know her name
although she whispers
good morning to me
a little smile in her eyes
she keeps her distance
in the evening she calls me pretty
laughs like a young child
with her face turned to the sky

A man hoses off the sidewalk
rolls the long green hose
onto its holder
I drink my second cup of coffee
smoke another cigarette
but she doesn't return