Written During Open Mic Night at the Dub Cee

Standard

PBR doesn’t flow
                Quite so melodiously
On the tongue, does it?
             But at $2.50 a pint
                          Who am I to argue?
And hey, how much longer
                        Is this hack going
To go on mangling
                  “Karma Police” anyway?
Open mics are always
                          A gamble, I guess
And you and I have always
              Been prone to losing streaks
           So this is about par for the course
And all the theorizing,
             The elitist injunctions                       
  Have not yet availed themselves
         To our distress beacons
                         Which hang like ellipses
         From the kitschy lips of neon
                                            But listen man –
                 
                                   That honey sitting
                  At the corner of the bar
                                  Over there, the one in cutoffs
                  And checkered vans.
                                         The one that I’ve seen you
                              Throwing glances at
                                                    Like a creep –
                     
                             She’s giving ya eyes.

– r. miller

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