sweaty fat slapped
the dim lit bedroom smelled of foot
awkwardly fumbling, distorted zippers
faces pressed in smashed disarray
falling up the stairs
through the stoop
small talk left at the bar
tiny stool engulfed in a sea of ***
get this fine lady a drink
the scrawny hook-tender waltzed in
after 37 years of disappointment
tonight was gonna be his night
Charlie looked himself in the mirror
was it all worth it?–