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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 17, 2016

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Submitted: August 17, 2016



And he said to her:
now come along now,
this is not the end,
there is always
a tomorrow,
there is always
a new love and life,
the old life
dies each day,
we are born again
each dawn.

She sipped her drink,
looked at him.

What boat did you
come off of, huh?
Look I don't want
to do anything,
I've had enough of men
to last me a life time,
I just want
to have a drink
and think
or not think,
you know
what I mean?

He sipped his drink
and looked at her:
OK look
I was just asking,
just seeing
if you might,
a guy's got
try his luck
or try at least,
you know we don't
live forever,
and if you won't
then there are
plenty of dames who will,
he said.

There are
are there?
well go find
another dame,
but remember
I was the one
who bought
your last drink,
she said,
looking at him
beside her at the bar.

I bought the last drinks,
he said.

Did you?
she said,
looking at her glass.

Yes I did,
I recall the bar-keep
looking at me
with those big
dark eyes of his
as if to say:
this is your last
you drunken bastards.

Did he say that?
She said,
looking at the bar-keep
at the other end
of the bar, serving
some girl in red
with blonde hair,
whom he was
chatting up
at the same time.

No I thought
he thought that
the way he looked at me,
he said.

She swayed a little:
look I will
if you are gentle with me,
and don't fall
asleep on me,
she said.

I never fall asleep
on a dame,
he said.

You did last night,
she said,
fell asleep afterwards
all over me,
and I had to push
you off of me,
you big lump.

Did I?
he said,
don't recall that,
he sipped the last
of his booze.

She looked
at her empty glass:
what now then?
She said.

Another drink?
He said.

She shook her head:
no pal, no more booze,
back home and to bed.

He nodded drunkenly:
he murmured,
right o,
he said.

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