A man walks into a bar.
He sees his prey and sidles up to her
a mass of torsion and wannabe.
He says haven't i seen you here before?
Don't you come here too often?
Haven't I tried this on you before?
Why do you come here?
What drives your feet, on the way, what expects you here?
Is something amiss perhaps under the chair have you looked?
Does something taste sweeter, under the lights, mirrored in the bevels?
Are you reaching something deep, and tender, parked over the gravel
in your speedy wheels?
Do you reach far enough? Do you get it?
Do you ever find it?
Is it ever enough?
Why do you come back here?
Can the green felt remind you of a pony?
Will the slow dance at closing crumble you into the old crush feeling of old?
Does stubble over your back lull you to sleep in a way that forgets dreams?
Is that better, to forget your dreams?
When you check your pulse in the vanity does it sell you another smile
that you just lap up like the rest, and believe?
Is that good enough?
Is this all you want?
That drink you drink, that cup you roll and roll
night after night
rolling and sipping
peeing
drinking and watching
slurping and wiping
is it always the same cup?
Do you ask for it by name?
Does it have any hobbies?
Does it mix the sugar and salt just the way you like it,
every time so you go home with that glow, that perfect
feeling
that starts it all again?
Do you take your cup home with you and fuck it all night
just to get to the rinds at the bottom?
I've seen that look in your eye before, sister,
but it won't work me in anymore.
So save your tips for the next gent that brushes your stool
and I'll be over there, in my unusual hole.
Taking care of you with an occasional glance
Poring over your chances through a sliding ice cube
Dreaming us together again for the both of us.