Mesa, Arizona - Jeffrey Foucault

All alone in a Mexican joint

In Mesa, Arizona

With a mariachi band

On the jukebox

And an empty Corona

And the sun gone down

In the pale thin pink

There’s no one to talk to

All I can think

Is your eyes are full of train smoke

And your mouth tastes like rain

And I know when I know nothing

I will always know your name

You’re my one and only one

You’re my only one

Out here working

In the neon lights

Where the temperature is falling

It’s hotel coffee

Red-eye flights and Honey

I’m your midnight ringer calling

And the snow comes down

From this desert sky

And I tell everybody something

But it’s usually good-bye

But not you you’re my one

You’re my only one

Only one I want to talk to

Only one I know to call

Only one who’s going to catch me

When my pride leads to a fall

You’re the sky all full of starlings

And an ax blade shining in the sun

You’re the angel touched a coal

Against my lips

You’re my only one

Reel to reel

The country rolls

And the towns slide by

Like ghost repeaters

Of faded billboards & big-box stores

Like a movie of an empty theater

You look around and wonder

When the seams are going to fail

And how dear the cost of living

Where everything’s for sale

Except you you’re my one

You’re my only one

And I’m all alone

In a Mexican joint

In Mesa, Arizona