Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Greyhounds

The bouncer checks my ID at the door,
"Thanks" he says, waving me inside. 
Friendly, for bar security. 
Scanning the room I choose a seat away from the throng by an open window. 
Minutes pass smoking a cigarette: Absorbed in the music,
Enjoying the rumble of straight pipes passing by. 
People are being served but tonight I am invisible; Wearing a sign saying "don't patronize me."
Noting it down on my phone, I smoke another cigarette:
Blending into the noise I imagine
I will leave dry, but quenched. 
As the cigarette burns down,
Out of the corner of my eye she approaches - Leslie
"Hey! What are we drinking?"
Vodka and grapefruit juice - greyhound. 
Appropriate since I spent the last few days thinking about grey
With a smile Leslie drops the drink off and I suddenly think did she really mean "what are we drinking?"
Should I buy her a drink?
The greyhound is perfect, reviving my dry mouth. 
I have already found the love of my life,
I don't care what Leslie may want. 
This moment is perfect - acknowledging my satisfaction,
Weightless, the burden gone. 
I light my last cigarette, sipping the grey away,
Reveling in life.

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