Looking for God in All the Wrong Places


Buyer beware, he cautions even as he grins
and winks and draws you closer,
stale breath all smoke and cheap whiskey.

This one’s not to be trusted.
The barkeeper shakes his head, a quick warning.
Listen to him, he knows this is all an act,

but you lean in closer for the groping hug
and wet kiss, your eyes closed so you can pretend
this isn’t just another Monday night.

Where will you wake on Tuesday? Alone again
in a strange bed, staring at someone else’s ceiling,
wishing you had just stayed home?


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