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Give Up The Quit

Kicked out,

Off the daily grind:

two shots to make me happy

were too toxic to keep me around.

Blood running dry, wild and tame.

Smug-smiles contort the face

to something less seemingly smilish,

and they were charging at me

chanting 'dry breath is not welcome here':

'rye breath is not welcoming',

and they chased me off the line.

their coffee eyes

told me it was time to go

(as politely as coffee eyes can) ,

and i said 'bye' in a dry rye breath;

escaped as they let me go:

escaped: I know.



Back in dark rooms with blue tv glows

and drink-glass coasters with

Canadian sketchings.

'I am barely on my feet', i say to an onlooker,

'try another bar'.







(sources: If you like the 'charging, chanting, chasing' look up the song _Jungle Line_ by Joni Mitchell, and if you are wondering where the blue tv screen light and sketched on coasters are from look up _A Case of You_ also by Joni Mitchell)

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