Out Cold By K.G. Munro

The bar feels like home

With dead flies in the corner

And a mist of cigarette smoke  

Floating beneath the dingy 

yellow light that flickers 

Over a creaky pool table 

As the TV hums in the background

Each glass of dark amber relief

Carries me further into 

A numbed state as I retreat

Away from the call of a

Broken life beyond the heavy metal 

Door that symbolizes my mind

As I briefly chat with the barman 

To sate my loneliness for a while 

Before I sip the final glass

Out cold I become across

the sticky bar stools.

K.G. Munro is an author and poet. Here are a few of her writing credits: Indian Periodical, Ink Pantry, The Wombat Post, Pawners Papers, Reformed Journal, FreshOutMag, Spillwords, Scottish Book Trust, Mad In America, Earthly Comforts and Humans Of The World Blog.