Tinted windows darken the noon
sunrays burning sweaty pavement.
The heavy door screams like a monster
under a child’s bed as silhouettes
drift out to hazy cigarette circles.
One lonely bartender
wipes the same glass over
and over as an attempt to wash
out the disappointment of his
mother. Murky orange liquid
cannon balls into
an empty depth of self-abuse.
Stools tower sacredly over drunken fools
holding onto the floor as liquor
drowns them in slurred speech.
Sip after sip of poison
to forget a Monday massacre.
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