Nighttime Contingency
Where did the sleepless of the world run off to?
The existential possibilities of a
Night out on the town completely elude me
When I order two drinks
I want to trade one for a good story
Have fathers stopped teaching their sons
How to properly shake hands?
I want to forget about my ugly spirit
And laugh with ugly faces!
I don't want a single second to pass
Where I'm not in danger of spilling my drink.
America, my heroes aren't fit to be gods
Or are they?
It's so clear to me now,
The racket and confusion of morality is gone.
I once met an eighty-year old man
Whose idea of heaven was wandering from one
Smoke filled bar to the next.
He's the one I want dangling from my rosary beads.
poem by C.S. Smith
Added by Poetry Lover
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