at best, tonight ends in rest-filled sleep with possibilities
of an old lover probably taken for granted

at worst, well, it can always get worse
no use dwelling on such things
those scenarios receive more than their fair share

quick one at the ale-house
heart open this january evening
dimly lit by coal-fueled electrical responses
illuminating habitual relapses of overconfident tones
and dishonest scared shitless eyes
clothed in the modern pigmented
grey and black dyed organic Patagonia cotton

everyone wearing grey and black?
even the messenger bags?
caps beanies glasses hair-clips

holding nothing against
fearless beauty loses the modern-cliched surroundings to be validated by none other than the undercurrent of the entire universe