Serving House: A Journal of Literary Arts
SHJ
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Poem
SHJ Issue 7
Fall 2013

I Too Looked for Mr. Goodbar

by Jill G. Hall

Smelling of leather
the motorcycle cop 
kissed hard and fast.

The Flamenco guitarist flicked
my breasts.

The chef tasted 
every part of me.

The insurance salesman
guaranteed that he practiced
safe sex.

The actor talked through it.

The surfer dove in, rode
my body and crested
at the peak.

The psychiatrist asked,
“Am I feeling love for you or 
is it just maternal transference?”

 

 

SHJ Issue 7
Spring 2013

Jill G. Hall

is a San Diego visual artist as well as a writer. She has just completed the jillionth draft of her first novel, The Black Velvet Coat. Her first published poem, “¬°Ay Caramba!” is in the annual anthology, A Year in Ink (2012).

She spends as much time as possible on her ranch in Descanso where she finds inspiration and revitalization. Her monthly essays on the art of practicing a creative lifestyle can be found on her website:

www.jillghall.com

“...we have been born here to witness and celebrate. We wonder at our purpose for living. Our purpose
is to perceive the fantastic. Why have a universe if there is no audience?” — Ray Bradbury