Yet again, no new poem for Poetry Thursday. I must be slacking ... but I have a good excuse. I had to plan a baby shower for two women in my office and the party was this morning.
The good news is that I have two new poems waiting to be posted, I just need to refine them a bit.
Anyway, this is an oldie but a goodie (how's that for a cliche?).
After 21 You Can’t Go Back
The bartender tonight was new
His jet-black hair fell over his face
and into his eyes
and when he asked me what I wanted
I was looking into his eyes
and thinking something else
I wanted to ask for what the girls
giggling in the corner would get
later that night
At the end of the bar I heard bits and pieces
of slurred pick-up lines
and beer bottles
and the sound of women
crossing their legs
rubbing their thighs
ready to mate
I did not want to settle
for a drink