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Bar fly Blackout
by Brian Francis
Pour me another one please
Make it a double so I can fly
Perched on this bar stool
Protruding from between my thighs
Like a booster rocket aimed at the moon
Someone hurry and give me a light
I know there’s one burning
In the ashtray right there
But two would be better
A smoke screen hiding my plight
veiled among the lisping leering clientele
Reflections passing by
In the mirror behind the bar
Blurred images and spilled dreams
Another on the rocks if you please
A beer back to wash it down
Past the numb lips of this drunken clown
Oh go ahead run your fingers through my hair
Whisper sweet nothings I’ll never hear
Help me to stumble out to your car
And have your way with this drunken rag doll
And when the morning comes after you’ve done
Feed me some breakfast away from the sun
Hurry me out with a smile and a wave
And a promise to see me again. 07/20/2008 Posted on 07/20/2008
Copyright © 2024 Brian Francis
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 07/20/08 at 10:06 PM Quite descriptive! Not something I've (thankfully) ever experienced! It all seems a tragic waste. That is what the poem says to me! |
| Posted by Dave Fitzgerald on 07/21/08 at 10:42 PM Oh, I was going to say "we've all been there" but... Q beat me and proved me wrong.
I have though and I'm not ashamed. It's a learning experience ;)
Great write Brian. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 07/25/08 at 05:21 PM Well written capture of bar room stereotypes Brian. Reminds of Leonard Cohen's song Closing Time. Thanks also for your comment on my Floaters poem. :o) |
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