Tonight
What was tonight?
Whiskey and water.
Beer,
Arguments surreptitiously
Heard.
“My husbands a cunt.
But I stay with him.
He fucked the next door neighbour!
I told that bitch and she left.”
Cigarette passes between lips.
Smoke inhaled.
Scared of the night.
Afraid to leave,
Afraid to stay.
Lost in a miasma
Of friendship, love and fear.
Strangers awash in the bar
Frighten me,
I have to pass their
Lives to achieve my goal.
Lost and alone surrounded by
Needed friendship and mental loss.
Both boon and tragedy.
Why does he look at me like that?
Why do I look at myself like this?
More booze, more booze.
It means nothing.
Its all just
Absurd.
raypool
Sun 24th Feb 2019 20:57
You two lovely men I can talk honestly to I know, and would just like to say that this poem affects me keenly. I am a light drinker, not through any sense of moral containment or preference, but I would be flat out as my capacity is so low , as was my father's. He tried me out in the pub at 15, and was disappointed that I didn't take to it. Same with smoking , though I've always liked a pipe.
Lots of my good friends and indeed lady friends have liked a tipple. A few went under early. Lots of musos I know garnered work through bar contacts. I was always on the outside looking in. So in that sense probably the same mentally as you two.
To be understood in casual company is a tall order. I can't teach anything to you both about bosom buddies I know so I wouldn't try.
Well worth the reading and understanding Phil.
Ray
Very best, mate.