The Nighttime World Is A Desperate World by Brian Rihlmann

she used to sit at the bar
after a few cocktails
and torture me with secrets
how she loved it hot on her skin
on her face and tits
she’d rub it in like lotion
she said
and I never knew 
whether to believe women
when they talked shit like that
I thought of it as degrading
but back then I didn't yet realize
how many people love 
to be degraded
 
she was about 10 years older 
but she looked good to me
a barfly with dyed black hair
who wore too much makeup
heels that were too high
and skirts that were too short
yet just right
 
from behind the bar
I'd squirm with my hard-on
grin and say
I could help you out
but she was always gone
before my shift was over
and the next time I’d see her
I’d ask where’d ya go?
she’d just laugh and say
I got a better offer
and I’d laugh too
and say, oh really?
 
yep...no one likes to wait around
until 3 a.m. to get what they need
not when there's so many others out there
just waiting to give it to them

Brian Rihlmann was born in NJ, and currently lives in Reno, NV. He writes mostly semi autobiographical, confessional free verse, much of it on the so-called "grittier" side.  Folk poetry...for folks.  He has been published in Constellate Magazine, Poppy Road Review, and has an upcoming piece in The American Journal Of Poetry.