POEM: THE BARTENDER

“Yeah, I’m going to be making out with that girl.”

The bartender said

As she bumped her way

Into the bar

With family gems

Jumping off

Her drooping neck

Her bangles smile around

Old wrists

Happily getting their exercise.

She took a gulp of wine

And ripped open her purse

To reapply

Her compact

Cradled in her palm

She sucked in her cheeks

Moving her head side to side

While she pasted her powder

Over old blotched layers

Covering every corner of the mirror

As she squeezed herself

Into the small powder pact.

“You’re pretty enough without any more.”

The bartender said

She remained in her zone

Taking charge of her melting face.

Finished with her bait

She sucks back the rest

Of her wine

And got up with a clatter.

Empty glasses

With dirty napkins

Stuffed inside.

A dropped straw

Lingering presence

On the bar.

The bartender picked up her empty glass

And held it up to the light

With her pink lips

Indented on the side

And the bartender said

Disgusted.

“Yeah, I’m going to be making out with that girl.”

-eml

P.S. Don’t be that girl.

 


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    Last reviewed: 6 Sep 2013

APA Reference
Loberg, E. (2013). “Yeah, I’m Going To Be Making Out With That Girl.”. Psych Central. Retrieved on August 20, 2014, from http://blogs.psychcentral.com/manic-depression/2013/09/05/poem-the-bartender/

 

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