The Pub

Leather and oak Whiskey and smoke Exhaled in a languid defense Of an evening that’s spent In a mist of ferment That eventually lifts all pretense Quietly tight As you sip through a night Of forgetting the reason you came Asking, no doubt What your life is about And then looking for someone to blame Feeling at ease ‘Til the moment you seize On a thought that you thought you had lost Wondering why You believed in the lie And then categorizing the cost Leaving a tip Like a bargaining chip To the sad patron saint of the waiting Hoping to gain Some relief from the pain In the arms of sweet equivocating On your way home You’re no longer alone As you walk about talk about trust Like a moth to the flame You dissolve in the shame Of the heat and the light of your lust In the morning once more You have evened the score And your ego’s exacted its price So you say your goodbye And you try not to cry For the loneliest act of your life