Bar Call Catharsis

Does your chest burn?
I’ve never seen you smile before;

errant women walk loosely,
among men-wolf-masturbaters,

fueled by/soaked in alcohol,
skunk skanks sipping loaded lots,

and in the corner,
dread and mistery,

next to the bathroom door,
a sailor smokes in peace,

midnight chimes,
each count a click-check-lock,

when they arrive home,
they search the oven for leftovers,

then crawl into stained sheets,
on cool Monday mornings,

they all wish they had died instead

~ by Shawn M. Young on August 25, 2017.

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