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The ineffable glow
of his black stares,
cut through the room,
aching for affirmation.

His extremities throb-
mission set by
self-destiny, programmed
for tits and liquor-
begging the place for the
light to shine
on his next victim.

Day in, day out,
he purges his body,
maintain constant
his impure symmetry.

Like a dreadful banner,
he covers the crowd –
his effulgence galloping
with the arrogance of
some war-

illicit thoughts of
bedroom nights full
of naked female

full of luck,
the rubbers in his pocket
begin to warm-
not a single bite.

From a distance,
with a white Russian in hand,
I catch his stare-
music pounding ear drums-

returning it,
declaring my threat.

As I leave the lounge
with a woman on each arm,
I reach into my pocket for a few bucks,
enough to tip the bartender for our drinks.

Stepping out side the door,
I turn back, giving the gentleman
one last glance-

wishing him luck.

26 of 31 - 1/10

"Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead." — Charles Bukowski

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The following comments are for "Relishing the moment"
by pablowilliams

I thought rubbers prevented progeny? Predatory and kinda dark - not bad. Cool read!

( Posted by: jonpenny [Member] On: January 28, 2010 )

A different voice for you my friend. I enjoyed it. The eternal struggle to get the girl at the bar while backing off the other guys.

A girl on each arm?? Nice!

Good work,


( Posted by: HeRoCoMpLeX [Member] On: January 29, 2010 )

"wishing him luck"
there is such an aura of pathetic, sweaty desperation about the man you describe and the sleazy scene you paint, given hubristic hilarity by the fact that he clearly doesn’t realise it himself… that portion of the poem I thought was up to you incisive, observational best, and I almost didn’t want poem’s ‘I’ to be implicated in the scene, but to remain aloof and cool, above it all… I think, though, now, perhaps his inclusion lends a human touch. the squalid competitiveness of men, eh? nicely done.

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: January 30, 2010 )

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