Closing Up
There’s something acidic about this place,
bar stools slant toward an eroding floor,
poised to swallow a lazy armed
mop stroke.
The man whistles through broken
teeth; the theme song of another
night wasted.
I stand up, slosh inside my
boots like the drink in my hand,
and sit back down into a
creaking nightmare.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.
Copyright © James Kelley | Year Posted 2013
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