Give Up The Quit
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
'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)