my bar

Sitting at the bar with the young songwriter.
Splitting shots of whiskey
and chasing cheap stories with cheap beer.
Then she asked me what I was doing here.
I joked and told her I liked to keep my friends close
and my enemies closer.
Then I downed another shot for effect
‘Here’s to my next train wreck.’
She said I know what you mean.
Love and trouble are too much the same.
If you are lucky sometimes you can hear ’em coming like a distant train.
We told each other some tall tales
with jokes and we even shed a few tears
On the next round, I asked her
where’d she go from here?
She said dryly, to another town, down another road
to a place never as pretty as this.
and added that’s her life but that’s tomorrow not tonight.
Then she downed another shot for effect.
‘Here’s to what happens next.’
Sitting at the bar with the young songwriter.
Splitting shots of whiskey
and chasing cheap stories with cheap beer.