PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

This one time

I was at a bar cause

I knew the manager

and they played Johnny Cash

through the loud speakers.

My phone wouldn’t stop ringing

so I turned if off

and I wrote poems

(while drinking Jager bombs)

about being Abstinent

and who I’d fuck if I wasn’t.

There was an older guy

‘bout 50

sitting next to me.

I introduced myself

and we talked about

Swing dancing

for hours,

traded numbers

and promised to be each other’s

dance partners

at the next

Sock Hop.

The bartender wanted to go to

Nursing school

and she was doing

homework

in between shots.

The band started playing

but no one was there

so I clapped extra loudly

so they didn’t feel like

they were wasting their time.

Whenever it got too smoky

I went outside for fresh air

but by that time

there were so many people

that the cloud of

sweat and smog

followed me

everywhere I went.

So many beers were spilled

that my shoes

clicked

with the effort

of unsticking them

from the stale alcohol

that coated the floor.

There was some wicked

Grafiti

on the bathroom stalls –

someone apparently

did coke off a stripper’s ass –

I know right?!

Sounds like it belongs in a bad porn movie

or rap song.

There were TV’s everywhere –

so distracting –

and beer was 7 bucks a pop.

I traded tattoo stories

with the doorman

and found myself wishing for more.

Tattoos, that is.

Speaking of which

there was an ink shop across the street

and if I wasn’t so broke

I would have probably gotten

at least another piercing.

The band started playing

covers of

Stevie Wonder

and it blew my fucking mind:

Sax and all –

the notes they hit

would make any girl jealous

(or want to be a groupie).