Colored lights glance from the ice cubes.
I swirl my ice,
Hoping the whiskey won’t burn so much if it’s cold.
I feel. So
My bare soul retreats into the glass.
My stomach reminds me
My soul won’t be the only thing hurting in the morning.
The businessman next to me
Loosens his tie
And his tongue,
Rants about how his marriage was ruined
By gays, women’s rights and liberals.
(What happened to the good old days?)
In the background,
Johnny Mathis sings,
And smoke gets in my eyes.
The lady two seats down
Has a run in her stocking
And in her smile.
She recounts her abandonment
And can’t stop cursing his ass,
Or wishing he’d come back.
Now Johnny’s singing “Chances Are”
I sense I am wearing a silly grin.
I feel less…it’s working.
The barkeep starts to pour another round.
How ‘bout you pal?
Oh shit yes. Keep ‘er goin’.
Johnny sings Misty
And I feel helpless as a kitten up a tree.
I notice my shoelace has come untied
Just like my soul.
Only a few of us hardcore late-niters are left.
Barkeep calls the last round.
He turns off the music
Just as Johnny sings:
“But in the hush of night
Comes that certain smile
To haunt your heart again…..”
And I wonder:
How many broken people
I am among.