let us proceed

a jungle cat faked his way through the crowd,

went up to the bartender and ordered, "a pop pop.. and lickedy split, slick." 

bartender and patrons surrounding took swigs of their honey dews with pretense and threw their heads back in gleeful disdain. 

bartender spoke. "get outta here little son. your tones do not match the grit this establishments requires. where be your beard? or your head buzzing with broken thoughts? or you disdain for the working order?"

the jungle cat looked around at the show put on. each patron here brandished a beard. and each head rattled from the sound of cluttered nonsense inside their dome. he was made to feel like a boy here in this place, this place dripping with faux grit. 

the jungle cat, tired from a day of slaughter, smiled and left.

returned a week later. faked his way through the crowd again. 

went up to the bartender and said, "shot of house whiskey in a snifter." 

bartender spoke. "what's a snifter?" 

Reviews

[Robin Thomas]

cant hide who you really are--- your poetry is so incredibly interesting-- keeps me thinking.

[alan khan]

wow thank you very much that really means a lot.

[Vidya Bacchus]

Very interesting piece.Great write

[alan khan]

thanks very much :)