I had 3 whiskeys
10 cheap domestics
Then saw her sitting there
She must've been in her fifties
Her ******* were big
Her legs long and smooth
Dark hair
Red lips
She sat at the bar
Gracefully
The way flowers dance
I thought
My god
So many men.
Loved,scarred
Left for dead
She had it all
She was woman
She was a beautiful painting
Of death
She looked over at me slowly
Staring straight into mine
Smiled
Then tossed her hair
Then looked away
My blood was burning
My god
So many men.

bloated from the alcohol
spinning
lips and lungs cracked
by cigarette smoke
lying, watching
death crawl across the tile
picking up speed
all you can do is wait
the poem is just
words
and yours
are all bad
but then
the sun rises
and you can see
its' minute and second
hands
its your time
the poem is just words
and yours are all bad
but they're wept
from your soul
you can hardly stand
but you do
because
you could never stand
for defeat

I didn't know her
never will
but her neck was long
and she smelled of flowers
i noticed while passing by
she didn't notice
anything
i walked away
and she stood there
neck long
smelling of flowers
drinking gin alone now
i wonder what it'd be like
to feel pure
like her

I screamed out
"**** the rent!"
Then pulled out another
20
I stared at all the
Sad
Woman at the bar
All waiting
To be ******
But they had never read Fante
And that bothered me
So I went home
Alone
Opened another beer
And wrote another poem
That nobody
Cared about

Drink a beer
The 6th one
Square up
And stare in the mirror
Watch your chest
Rise and fall
Remember
The blood
The pain
Scars
And all those times
You weren't afraid
It still stands
Look into its eyes
Don't forget that stare
When your sobered up
In the morning
Remember
That you are one tough
*******

back on the bourbon
the $8 bottle
sweating away another
wild lonely night
locked in my small rented room
stumbling over
passion
life
woman
pain
poetry
all dying
smiling numb
and laughing to nobody
waking up slow and naked
put on the coffee
wash your face
try to wash away
the defeat
study the words
that madman wrote
last night
he knows you better
than you ever will

she once told me
her and a friend invited
the local jehovah's witness boys over
to try and **** them
it made me laugh
then we ******
for years
what's your type?