It was like
I just walked onto the set
of a Quentin Tarintino movie
but didn’t have the face
of a Natural Born Killer
The bartender was smashing glasses
of ill fate
against the wall of the past
screaming the “the night is young”
but my watch says no
I sat down
glanced to the screen
static nightmares
of Bush on parade
stained the innocence
of the tele
Cowboy junkies on the juke
Sweet Jane never sounded better
ordered a beer and it never came
wondered if my time was up too
when the biker stood up to put on his jacket
paused briefly to show his piece
yelling “barkeep, get me one for the road”
and no one said a word
not the girl sleeping on the bar
not the couple fixing
Her dress splitting at the seams
The guy next to me sat his lonliness within reach
said there was a fire burning
all that was pure
in the air tonight
before she came
she says he’s a homo
and wondered if a hit was about to go down
I wasn’t sure of anything at this moment
and sang my whispers
that this must be the place
this must be the hell
I’ve been looking for
really it is not so bad
if I could just get one beer