Stories, Poems and Other Stuff...

Tuesday, May 06, 2014

Slow Motion Death Sentence

Will someone get me another beer?
As I sit here watching the faithful few,
playing pool, 
as they drink PBR
and hope for sex,
I see the trapped.

Trapped in the mundane.
Trapped in the routine.
Trapped in some white trash birthright.

The flashes of neon beer signs
flicker in such a way
that slows down their mediocre existence,
staving off death one second at a time.
Slow motion death sentence.

I am but a visitor now.
I broke out of your prison.
For now,
will someone get me another beer?



© Charles Scott 2014

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