Poet's Pub

Swinghouse by Jennifer Woods

It starts out in some crowded place and a few beers later someone says

are you going to Swinghouse?" and so we do and we get there and by this time most of the night is drunk

so much so that the sky is a fuzzy show you only watch if you are willing to throw it all up.

So we get inside and it's some guy asking me

if I'm the girl from upstairs asking for the cocaine and his hand brushes my ass and I think

"if he only knew about my God"

so we dance and the rose that Sarah gave me falls out of my pocket only to be ground into the muddy floor

and you can feel the devils and the angels all fighting to be heard above the music.