C'Est La Vie
the bar is crowded
and the smoke tickles my nostrils
i sneeze a few times
then find a place in the front
the band is a joke
lead guitarist sticks to power chords
except the rare occasion
he noodles like an idiot on solos
some old hipster eyeing me
i look at him with a questioning stare
"have a seat," he says
two women to his side
his friends crowded around in the bunker
the round table shakes from shots landing
and the kick of feet and laughter
"what's your name?" he asks
"val" i say and waft the smoke away
"val... isn't that a girl's name?"
his two drunken friends laugh
"usually" i say and reach for a drink
"why ya here val?"
"to meet a friend"
"a friend, huh... where is she?"
"he"
"you gay or somethin?"
"unfortunately, no" i say with a sneer
he doesn't like my tone, but continues
"how long you been waiting?"
"an hour"
"an hour? he's not coming"
"yeah, we'll see"
"you're welcome to stay and drink with us though"
"thanks, but no thanks"
his eyebrows furrow at this and he leans over at me
"look at this kid. doesn't have any friends.
and when someone tries to be a little friendly
he shows just why he doesn't..."
his friends laugh harder, the two women sit uninterested
"look, val. this is my world...
where do you belong?"
my thoughts go sour as i climb my way out
clearing my head on the streets
i make my way for the subway
the walk is long and my feet are killing me
a waste of a night as usual
and thoughts keep going off in my head
as usual
the ride back is empty
besides a big college kid and his girlfriend
the entire time they are making out
but every once in a while they look over at me
and say with their eyes,
"this is our world...
where do you belong?"
Copyright © Val Murah | Year Posted 2007
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