Tuesday, April 12, 2016

In A Hole In The Wall

This bar counter is smooth,
Clear coat over long grains,
Chipped and dirty wainscoting beside me,
They may's well be the same,

If the lights weren't down you'd see it all,
The dust bunnies on wires,
Into junction boxes that lead nowhere,
Liquor lined up lighted colors like fires,

Eve'ry drink muting remaining contrasts,
Blurs of bats, copper pans,
Old, torn ads for long forgotten products,
Wait, that's next Friday's band,

Then I see me,
In the tap's manifold,
Stretched out, squished, barely recognizable,
Appears I'm in the right place, when all's told. 

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