There's nothing sexy about a station wagon
you're played out in worn polyester
rolling up to the bar with your sidekicks
floppy Bernie and flaccid Ben
drinking low-carb excuses for putrid beers
watching fake blondes by the jukebox
do a slow dance of self-destruction
they say you can never be too rich or too thin
obviously they gave up that ghost in this joint
chewing tobacco in one pocket, your wallet in another
you approach one of those 2.5 disposable girls
what makes you think she wants to get in those pants?
she only smiles because Jack Daniels told her to
and with each passing sip you become a man of intrigue
Does your mama know what you do when you visit her on Sunday?
Member of the girl of the week club?
Boys will be boys?
Praying to the altar of the blue pill,
trying to find your youth
Feeding on others instead of looking within
Hung out to dry and no answers in sight
This night is no different from any other
Her name changes, the story the same
You'll drink the well dry and still be back for more
Until you are hollow and spent in the ground
Unable to question how you authored your doom.
_______________________________________
Dear readers, this is my third book of poems, and inside are a special collection of what have turned out to be not only MY personal favorites, but also the favorites of many of YOU. Some of these have never been available in print before...
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