poem of the day 09.08.15

buffalo wings

            --for d-shot

some dive so far out of the city

we don’t believe that it exists

but george and carrie are telling us

that this great band is playing

and bands play every saturday night

so that’s nothing special

this joint is so far

you can’t even see the pink hue of pittsburgh in the sky

when we reach this magical far off place

they charge us five bucks at the door

and you see there aren’t the usual club girls here

or the punk party girls from east carson street

but the beer is cheap

buck and a quarter a draft

so we park at the bar

promise george and carrie we’ll get the beer

and the chicken wings slathered in buffalo sauce

two orders and two pitchers

but we don’t move from our pock-marked glitter-red stools

we listen to the muffled sound of the band

watch the townies dance

oh, how did we get here calvin?

we’ll never talk again like we do this night

rapid fire about girls and life and our desires

selfish sucking down the two orders of buffalo wings

and two pitchers of beer

without even thinking about anyone else

sitting there like lifelong friends

like brothers, you say

sharing a pack of smokes in between the food and drink

like the only fools in the place

and later on, drunk and gobsmacked by fleeting youth

i see you slow dancing with carrie

you look like two delicate angels

underneath such soft lights

i pray to anything just to make time stop.