Report From Beerland
seedy bars are always good for songs and cities
faded posters announcing some forgettable performance
fleur de lis wallpaper—St. Louis or New Orleans
the unintentional clank of piano keys
the river roiling
Tina rolling on Proud Mary
the back door open
an unheard whisper from the night
all those tires on the road
in the morning clean-up crews mopping the dance-forsaken floors
door open to release the stench of this night’s crowd
arse and elbowed so tight
the angelic barmaid with buck teeth
holding a tray of drinks up so high
as she works her way to far tables
amazing there aren’t patrons like dogs
leaping to clench the lip of a glass in their teeth
politics and failed marriages were certainly caught in their teeth
heroes everywhere in conversations nodding off
table tops aren’t pillows for spinning dreams
outside stars as far away as a kid’s grasp on things
things are stumbling forward, as they always do, in the dark
Horror Sleaze Trash 