Opening the door to the tavern
Rotten royal scent fuming
from the neck of an empty bourbon flask.
Drunk eyes staring at the fly on the wall
That watches a girl drown her liver
And compromise her soul
All to take the sting of the real world away.
Curly club roller coaster, jukebox pulsates
To the beat of the empty heart in the corner
With an empty home and empty bed
And wallet of twenties and clouded head.
Grin of stone with a glass of whiskey to wash it down,
And a hunch of human despair so permanently round.
Marlboro steer shadows a pool table.
Neon glares off the dark glasses of a man with
Dark clothes and dark habits and
Bright enough to blind the senses and
Charming the petals of each
Female flower with
A ripe pistol and eyes of desire.
Stage of life with no performers, drum set
Summoning the battered bartender, bold
In her leopard spot silk scarf, hiding
Her scarred, bruised skin with memory marked.
She tips a bottle, dancing with drinks,
Intoxicated by the hum of the crowd,
The sum of her fear-filled frowns.
Rest not, want not, hot coal bed
Free the succulent serpent
Inside the head of all
The blitzed bingers crying more for less,
Full at night, empty at dawn.
Walking a road to the high, to the grave,
It’s all the same in a world
Of indulgence and