Drugs and Dark Bars

 

He called it oxycotton

and I took it.  Nothing happened,

at first, and the Jameson bottle

grew more green with less

of its brown contents

 

The bar was actually a pub -

or a bar dressed up like one.

European flags hung in the ceiling

but now low enough to cover up

the s****y cover band.

 

We lost interest and found ourselves

at a nearby strip club.  He said

it was a time released pill

and time did release, slowly,

into a drowsy doze. 

 

A few girls tried my lap

but I ran them off

without promises of a return

for them

from me.

 

One I couldn't refuse - dark hair,

petite, with an innocent smile.

She rubbed her a*s all over

my limp dick.  I felt nothing

except the urge to fight a long sleep.

 

Was I dreaming?

How long have I been awake?

The car ride home was more

of an arrest - a conviction

of lifelessness.

 

The stars were missing from the sky.

The front door followed the crash

onto the couch.  Sleep would finally come,

like a wanted death - interrupted only by

a succession of vomit induced realities.

 

The vomit was chunky

like a milkshake casserole.  It poured

endlessly

like a long train pours

into a dark tunnel.

Reviews

[Matthew Kult]

Sounds like last weekend. Great write.

Regards,

Matthew