***
over a beer
a notevencold beer
he laments his fallen star
puts his money on the counter
his own money
chipping away at a feeble stack
would not have happened
even just five years ago
but it takes
not much
just a tiny shift
the easiest of pushes
the faintest change in breezes
voice darkened dampened by time
wear
smoke
quit the tour
poor reviews
dysfunction
chain of events
from one
to noone
in notime
his former mates might be
in some same plain jane establishment
elsewhere miles removed
thinking too, sipping
strangely foreignly
some same remorseful rum
on the rocks
again
the tender knows the usual
—
elsewhere miles removed
in some same plain jane establishment
his new song plays on the juke
unnoticed background static
except to one
one noone
one forlornly lonely noone
who reaps from it
the grace of a million moments
ever so subtly
in the sky
a star rises
behind the clouds of dank evening
***
I hate when the beer becomes a not even cold beer, and yet, I feel compelled to finish what I’ve started.
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In this case, haste prevents waste. 😉
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