Longing Nights
in a crowded bar, hard rock
blaring and the beers are drained
faster than the brunette
barmaid can pour’em.
it’s almost alright, I just
need some good old blues,
maybe Hank’s and George’s sad
songs and some good bourbon
to get me through the night;
some tequila to bring forth
the desire to murder the blue
moon.
down another beer and shot of
Jack go—just crank some Hank up,
I wish to yell at the
white-haired DJ. too rock for country,
the rest are tapping their
feet, swaying their heads,
whispering along the lyrics.
more Jack and I’m reminded of
her pleas:
come to bed sober, for one motherfucking night
and it was the only time she
ever swore.
I bring the worst out of even
the best; foolishly,
I let her go. had no strength
to fight.
more beer and in the foam I
might see her sleeping
her life away, next to someone
that offers her the peace and quiet
I’d never provide.
she sometimes liked the
madness; till it got too much.
she tolerated the vices; till
I came close to the grand finale.
I’m still around, different
country yet easy to find;
the long-haired man hiding his
bald spot under a bun,
swilling green beer and Jack
on every bar stool
of this city.
I might be elsewhere come next
year
—or even six feet under if I’m
lucky—
but right now I’m here;
thinking of those lovely nights
under the stars. before it all
got too much. when we
still believed in forever.
I trade Jack for Jose and forever
just got a little shorter.
George Gad Economou
George Gad Economou holds a
Master’s degree in Philosophy of Science and resides in Athens, Greece, where
he freelances his way to a new place. His work has been published in Spillwords
and Jumbelbook and his novella, Letters to S., was published in
Storylandia #30.
Tags:
Poetry