there's little better
little better
than a sunny
unseasonably warm
october afternoon
in a dark
empty bar
off town square
in some little town
far enough
way from home
a crummy little bar
all the doors
wide open
just two gossiping women
complaining
of the other women
of the neighborhood
and complaining
and complimenting their men
with the sound of traffic
lazy ceiling fans
judge mathis and espn
a gnat
buzzing at my face
none of it
disturbing
the friday
afternoon peace
of the warm breeze
and nothing else to do
but enjoy
a couple of cheap bottles
at the happy hour
price
i bother
to write this
cause sometimes
a candy bar
tastes like the best fucking thing
in the world
better than untainted
powdered pussy
sometimes
while other days
it's just
a candy bar
so........
who fucking knows
what it really is
or what it's ever gonna taste like
tomorrow
mrobins71 