Dumb Luck
There is a bar called
Dumb Luck, located on the
corner of “L” and “Word” streets.
They play the Blues there,
nothing else.
A man walked into Dumb Luck
and sat on a stool.
The bartender was Blue.
“What will it be?” she asked.
“Johnny Walker Black, up,
water back,” he replied.
Her eyes were lonely,
they never left his as
she poured the liquor into
a sad glass.
She gave the man his drink.
“What happened to the water?” he asked.
“Why do you want that?” she replied. She was Blue.
“So I can be sober.”
“Sober? Around here we call that misery.”
They drank and danced
Blue all night.
A man ran into dumb luck
and fell in love—Poor guy!
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