three fingers of rye
talking about how tired and contrived
everything coming out of hollywood
is these days

cigarettes, burning in the night
watching men get bounced, denied
trying counts, and that's good
at least they say

atop my stool again
back in my booth
a familiar place
to offer comfort
ease and soothe

naked for the world's sight
from all the drugs i buy
no lie, i might stop if i could
let's let the chips ride
and if i die
it was the *****