three dollars
we stumbledrunk
out of the cricket lounge
dive bar strip club
belly full of whiskey
and over-priced beer
stumblerun across baum boulevard
nearly hit by ghost-car headlights
tonight we don’t care
about girlfriends or ex-girlfriends
or the beautiful girls at work
who won’t date us won’t kiss us
won’t come near us simply won’t
we racedrunk up south millvale avenue
talking about the strippers
about the one who showed her cunt
to everyone in the bar
the one who kissed steve’s glasses last week
with her hot pink smear of lipstick
who took a liking to you that night
you shout woo-hoos into the pittsburgh pink-black sky
while i shake the cathedral of learning distance
that looms like a shroud over this little universe
the sweat of this july night
makes me feel alive
we run but run don’t know why we run
to piss in lonely alleyways across from bum bars
where we’ll nightcap the night
as you tell anyone who will listen
look, man, i gave her three dollars
three dollars backed by the gold standard
man, she shoulda done a little bit more for me
then shake her wondrous ass
and say a placid thank you to my wallet bulge.
No comments:
Post a Comment