only I'm drunker.

Wannabe Kerouac's still there.
If he really wanted to be Jack
he'd be die from all the drinking.  


Neon.
The beer flows.


I charm.
People drink up my 1920's wit.
They're happy seeing me again
they think I'm one of them.

Their hugs last longer,
the smokes die quickly.
Friends reunite
but the party continues.


Neon.
The beer flows.


The speaking was business
but now business is drinking.
I'm for that.
The more I drink the less
I hear their redundant and empty conversations.
Everyone wants to do business with each other-
         no outsiders despite claiming to be as such.


Neon.
The beer flows


The bottles are empty,
I feel the **** wearing off.
Time to leave again.