three beers in
the human body begins
to feel uncomfortable in clothing
at seventy-four degrees
i get uncomfortable the minute
anyone speaks to me in this joint
a place where i used to be a phantom
drinking alone at the end of the bar
can’t they leave me alone
to taste the streets
of metal and garbage?
to consult the gods
with wine eyes and this draft beer?
oh how i begin to sweat
at the flick of someone’s tongue
i can see hell
i think murderous thoughts
watching my fat reflection
in the tavern mirror
as they prattle on
that can’t be me, i say
wiping my forehead
sunken, tired green eyes looking back
because that guy is a mendacious prick
get him a glass of water
and help him to see the truth!
i want to shout
a glass of water and a lot of ice
and if the rest of you will just stop talking
the next round is on me.