happy hour

ponytails and night stars
a guy in a panama shirt singing old southern rock
bamboo tables and blue icy drinks
I’m only swallowin’ red
it did cross my mine to switch to a clear beverage
but wine has been a decent friend lately
the counter is soaked in the last round
it’s sparkling like the sky
amazing how the moon hangs up there
while we’re below waiting for it to do something
spectacular
there are girls walking around in shorts
that make me blush
there are guys watching them
I blush more
what the hell
I don’t belong here, I’m too old for this shit
that’s how I talked the bartender into giving me receipt paper
and a pen
to write this
I’m leaning on a bar with a clock that looks like it could be in my kitchen
one of my gal pals is searching for me
(I learn this later)
doesn’t know what happened
I told them all, I only think of words now
a verbal disease on the brain until something else real gets me
my mind is a boring trap of oxymorons and merlot
maybe they’ll believe me now
singing in the background, a man with hair color in between middle-age and a few extra whiskeys
but still respectable enough to be strummin’ a guitar ’cause he does it really well
the bartender is sweet, a young girl with long dark hair like I remember being long ago
she’s laughing ’cause she’s not sure what to believe
the other bartender guy is quite certain I’m writing my phone number
like I said, I’m too old for this shit
I’m only writing words
capturing this night
struggling because I forgot my glasses
I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to read this later
if I get it down
I’ll write it here when I return home and everyone else is sleeping
’cause I’ll still be wide awake

features

features

thought this sort of worked since there were many eyes at happy hour, wonder if they were all happy eyes:), sketched so very long ago-thank you

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12 thoughts on “happy hour

  1. Fun one — I’m right there at this bar – with your words — in the midst of bar smells and sights and young girls and guys strutting their stuff and the voice here just feeling out of place but in the right place — some days you just look around and think where did all the folks go who used to sit with me? Good one here!

    Liked by 1 person

    • I have a friend who is in the throws of a strange separation. I accompany her out and I must say I’m having oodles of fun, probably too much;)
      this particular bar was not our speed-but you know you make the best of a humorous situation
      one must know one when to raise the white flag;)
      am:)

      Liked by 1 person

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