whisky and smokeA Poem by m.s.early
syncopated claps on the old skin
the top of the count is were the and is held the e is the sixteenth before snapping the sticks and the crash and the swish and the ting have you heard her sing is a slippery and slurred question at the bar that leaves his fingers sticky after asking sincerely and his friend nods after a cigarette drag there's the thin stale whiff of whisky in the smoke lazily drifting from his lips the beat shifts to the 2 and 4 and sweet harmony like honeydew swims in the air as soft as moonlight through last night's milky way his charming smile thins until it is no more there is a memory on the edge of his clouding mind blurring like last night's moon his eyes darken and his fingers rim the high ball glass as familiar as the legs of his lover gone the beat surprisingly eludes him as his grey eyes find the stage where electric colors shower the microphone barely touching her thick red kissing lips the whisky dilutes in the ice like a memory choosing to fade while the holder helplessly resists another nod to the bartender and the band plays on © 2017 m.s.earlyReviews
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2 Reviews Added on September 23, 2017 Last Updated on September 23, 2017 Authorm.s.earlyVAAbout"A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep." -Salman Rushdie more..Writing
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