3 of us.
one at one end of the bar,
the other at the opposite corner,
me in the middle.
we are the ones that
didn't learn from past mistakes.
store clerk, janitor, fortune teller,
Insomniac, lost soul,
who knows.
truth is found in the silence
of minding your own business.
we didn't come here to talk to one another.
the bottle or glass
held with fingers too tightly.
the bottle or glass has a kind heart
understands
this is sanctuary
from memories stitched to bone
like shadows scattering....
(a flash of lightning, a splintering boom)
and then she walks in.
a rift in the barrier of worlds.
she bends the light, deepens the silence.
she spoke with a voice like the morning dove
with a melody that forgets your name.
she glides. each step deliberate, unhurried.
we turn, and bone shadows in a hush
whisper,
" beautiful"
and she knows it
too well.
the dream walker
lifts the veils of moonlit memory
and time unthreads
into the first shiver of love
that lures men to madness.
and now done, suddenly
she turns around,
and walks out the door
(a flash of lightning, a roll of thunder).
the blinding white light
our hollow sky in disarray....
..."bartender, get me another double, and one,
for my 2 friends.
Charlie was in the hospital dying,
unconscious, and he says,
I'll have a margarita."
"hey, I knew Charlie."
"me, too." and then he says,
"my stock broker..."
Jul 14, 2025
Jul 14, 2025 at 10:26 PM UTC
3 of us.
one at one end of the bar,
the other at the opposite corner,
me in the middle.
we are the ones that
didn't learn from past mistakes.
store clerk, janitor, fortune teller,
Insomniac, lost soul,
who knows.
truth is found in the silence
of minding your own business.
we didn't come here to talk to one another.
the bottle or glass
held with fingers too tightly.
the bottle or glass has a kind heart
understands
this is sanctuary
from memories stitched to bone
like shadows scattering....
(a flash of lightning, a splintering boom)
and then she walks in.
a rift in the barrier of worlds.
she bends the light, deepens the silence.
she spoke with a voice like the morning dove
with a melody that forgets your name.
she glides. each step deliberate, unhurried.
we turn, and bone shadows in a hush
whisper,
" beautiful"
and she knows it
too well.
the dream walker
lifts the veils of moonlit memory
and time unthreads
into the first shiver of love
that lures men to madness.
and now done, suddenly
she turns around,
and walks out the door
(a flash of lightning, a roll of thunder).
the blinding white light
our hollow sky in disarray....
..."bartender, get me another double, and one,
for my 2 friends.
Charlie was in the hospital dying,
unconscious, and he says,
I'll have a margarita."
"hey, I knew Charlie."
"me, too." and then he says,
"my stock broker..."
