Red tail ale
And stinky butts of cigarettes
flirt shamelessly
one tipsy the other steaming
almost too American

Night lazes
across three bar stools
smoke weighting down his eye lids
dreading the hangover
that will curse him tomorrow

the beer sneers
at him from the bottle
jaded
like of course he’s seen this before

The faces of
night’s worshippers
fuzzy as they prepare
for mass
drowning time
in a martini
hanging it
by a olive flaunting toothpick
rub it’s ass sore
with a wedgie

Force it to glare
at the lady with the mink jacket
fake
and smoke clawing out of her nostrils
stupid

Night belches
non-virgin air
scrambles away from the scent
while

time meekly worries about
death from
secondhand smoke