One of the amazing aspects of life in the United States is that every place looks exactly like every other place.


Any Guy in Any Bar in Any Suburb

I should have guessed, but I didn't
(I didn't! I hate you!) that you,
In your sequins, your neo-funk
Finery: tramp-stamp tattoo,
And that cocktail. What is it,
a Bomb-Pop? Yeah, certainly,
Slurping suggestively, slinking
As I sit, suburban, inert, in a
Bar in a strip-mall, with these
For companions, the hourly
Drones, the shills, incognito,
The dumb-asses, in from their
Farms, with their camo and
Trucks, getting further than
I ever did, getting closer to
Putting their lips on that
Fine patch of ink at the base
Of your spine. You are fine,
In a manner of speaking, but,
Really, Ms. Marvelous, what
Do I want, a port in a storm?
A poke overnight? The guys
In their camo are more to your
Liking, and I, always dun,
Think myself always done as
I stagger down Q Street,
Toward my apartment. I tried,
And I failed. I'd hoped that
You'd love me, but you couldn't.
I should have guessed.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 32 times
Written on 2013-10-08 at 01:05

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