Broken Time

Little jazz number drenches

in blue notes- she feel sad.

I feel like whiskey.

 

Two shots from the bartender

go down smooth- she feel lighter.

I feel like another whiskey.

 

One more round and she swings

hips to beats. I rap my fingers

on the mahogany bar, off time.

 

Nine down and maybe I feel

the music seep in, just a bit,

start tapping feet, in time.

 

Or maybe I just feel antsy.

Get up to take a piss

unsteady on my feet,

 

swinging hips through the beat

cutting it into triplets, signaling

for more sweet sweet whiskey.

 

I wobble my way to the bathroom

swimming through these notes

glass in hand, keeping me just above.

 

I pass her, singing on the stage,

she lost in blue blue notes

singing the sad, swinging hips.

 

I stop to watch her drown

in music and know

I drown too.

Reviews

[char]

Now, I like this one's rhythm. So bouncy and fun.

[TJ]

I think I caught myself swaying to this one a little bit, lol. Really had a rhythm to it. I like the juxtaposition of the sad song with what seemed like a good time.
fun read.

[Kyle Kammerer]

Really glad you liked the rhythm of the piece. I'm not entirely sure where it came from because I typically don't have much rhythm in my poems. I think the subject matter really drew it out of me, if I had to guess.

Thanks for the kind words!