When he sits alone, there are the things that he won’t say
To anyone
But those may be the things that create a tomorrow
Even if he can’t remember what they were
At the bar
There a lot of lonely people
What are they here for?
Connection, drowning, satisfaction, sadness
What are they looking for
And is it the same?
Its not all the same
Is he lonely
Sitting at the bar
Alone
Maybe he likes it
Alone
Curious
Hungry
Wanting
But possibly a hunger different than theirs
But does he care
He can play that game
Fill their need
Drink his own
Pouring out more than he has
Not that he wants any of it, he doesn’t want to take it home.
But he needs it in his soul. In his mind. In his imagination. In his life.
But its not life
He had to learn that
There is life that must go on
And then there is an ongoing education of emotions and external circumstance
That he cannot live
Well
He could.
It would not give him what he seeks
Though
Too many glasses
Empty
His glasses
Empty
Looking for fulfillment
But he keeps drinking
What else can he do with the glasses
Watch them
Save them
Ignore them
No he has to drink
Its what glasses were made for
Humbling
That no one is seeking
What he has to give
Who the fuck cares
Its just an experiment
Everyone is looking for something
What are you looking for?
And will you find in at the bar
Or in a glass
Or in her conversation
Its what glasses were made for
To see the intentions
That cannot be seen
Or heard.
In the naked air
But is it the truth
Or does it even matter
When truth is just another story
That you must see behind the glasses
Or see at the bottom
When glasses turn empty