A Night Owl

This manuscript is about a dancing girl who,

like a crane, flew through

my lame approach. I managed to expose

my tail and my confidence took a swan dive.

“How about the weather” chirped out

as I retreated to my safe, inner nest.

Luckily, the mundane tweeting

led to a song together. But

this brought out a Kill Joy.

He said I crossed into his territory, and

that I should just go whistle a tune.

Fear not, the bartender heard my song.

In the end I held a bottle beck,

he got a head wound.