Elegy in Red

sitting here

at this worn bar

on this wobbly stool

in this run-down

dirt floor pub

drinking through

a few local brews

lost among strangers

wearing boots and

maga hats

a country

picker's in the corner

playing his guitar

singin' matchin'

notes to words

describing things

that never happen

never will

to broken

lonely hearts

the old tv

with the sound

turned off

hanging on

the rusty rack

out in the back

is on an

endless loop

of fox

and

as the

alcohol

takes over

i begin to

wonder if

tonight

i'll ever

make it out

perhaps

it was

a dumbass

thing to do

park in

the lot with

that bumper

sticker on

my car

stay here

talkin' trash

with anyone

who'll listen

sporting a

custom t-shirt

dyed in

kamala blue