The same old fuckers
warm the same old bar stools
drinking from the same damned
half-flat bottles of beer.
They nod to each other
in near tandem, take a drink
heads bowed to a drunken altar
praying to the gods of memory
to let them forget just for a night
as Ninkasi’s blood burns their lips.
Everyday it’s the same damn thing
the same people, the same sad stories,
only the faces change...
bars are where lonely people go
to pretend they’re not alone.
Nathan Tompkins is a writer living just outside of Portland, Oregon. Hi work has appeared in many places. His last chapbook, Howl Drunkenly at the Moon, ws published in 2018 by Alien Buddha Press, but it was needed to solve the Great Toilet Paper Crisis of 2020
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