Tuesday, September 8, 2015

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.                              

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