Posted by Kitt
So he found his way into the next street bar—
So too many sunsets he’d watched on his own.
He spied an open seat next to suspicion;
He sat: the leatherette surrendered with a groan.
He’d read that other’s fine published work—
Smaller now, he slow-ordered a few subsequent reds;
An author of quaint cuteness in a virtual realm in rhyme;
The rest of his well-bought confidence littered in shreds.
Darkly he found finally his Feng shui front door;
Next time he promised himself to leave on the light.
What’s that cold tightness crawling up his arm?
Her glam memory long ago dimmed from all sight.
Jack meowed hard, his breakfast was kinda late—
The neighbor poured the proper measured morsels into the bowl.
Calls were made, tears will come later, most real, certainly—
The author of quaint cuteness in his virtual realm of howl.
Posted in Poem
Tags: angina, bar stool, catfood bowl, cheap drink (well brands), cutesy writing, failed writer, feng shui, getting drunk, heart attack, house cat, leatherette seats, loneliness, lost love, neighborhood bar, old, poems, poetry, publicaion release day, published author, red wine, self-medicating, soft poems, successful authors, tears, writers