Glass Poetry Press

Volume Two Issue Three

Jee Leong Koh

I see I am the last man drinking in the bar

I see I am the last man drinking in the bar. I vowed I'd never be the last man in a bar. The lovers, the pickups, the panicstricken couples heard the night calling, It's time!, and left the bar. The ugly gogo dancer with the monstrous schlong has vanished with his wad of dollars from the bar. Even David is not coming back from his break to pour for us our shots and talk trash at the bar. You're lost. You're lost to me. Happy or sad somewhere. You do not think to think I'm waiting in a bar. This music stabs and stops the heart. The line is flat although the rhythm is still six beats to the bar. I would kiss myself if I could. (Stop crying, Jee.) If I know how and why, my mouth would close the bar.