the
back door of the bar leads to a dark alley
the
lost souls gather for cigarettes
since
such a sin is not allowed in the bar
the
only thing missing is a recitation
from
edgar allen poe
eyes
light up temporarily
as
lips and lungs take a drag
then
the ember end
rockets
through the dark
like
a shooting star
until
it crashes against a leg
the
holder cursing
and
brushing the fabric of their pants
with
the unfiltered hand
i
pass around my flask
but
it never makes it back to me
i
have been silent for days
the
sun was shining but i was gray
telling
myself i had quit drinking
even
though every evening found
me
already drunk
i
danced the propriety of pretension
trying
to make reality another dimension
though
i never could quite bring myself
to
say, “all things happen for a reason”
so
in this soon to be summer season
in
the heated hearth of los angeles
i
returned to walking outside
no
longer trying to hide
with
the internet worries
of
how our galaxy will collide
with
another in about
two
billion years
um,
yes, we already know
that
is why i am in this back alley
going
down slow
little
does everyone else here know
i
have another flask
nor
can they see in this ink
that
i am taking it to task
oh
why do we ask
any
question?
tell
me if i just change my words
to
the right confession
the
dictatorship of a petty god
will
find favor with me
chug,
chug, chug
flask
or a jug
light
my cigarette
with
the end of the one i’ve just smoke
and
when my flask is empty
there
are empty stools
and
empty shot glasses
waiting
for someone who long ago strayed
onto
the dark streets of decay
***
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