Rebound (0)

On the rebound, atop a stool in t singles bar.
Cigarette dangling from my lip, it's brethren
packaged beside my drink, where rests
my hand, anxious to seize another.

Ashes drop to the bar before I light
from the cherry of the predicessor.
Puff, puff.  Puff, puff.  The new cherry glows to life.
I crush the other to smolders in ashes.

The barman's arm crosses my vision.
He snatches up the ashtray, only five
butts in it.  He throws down a clean one.
I think if only I could fill and ashtray to capacity!

Black Russian.   Yes another.  Here, a tip.
I swallow the last of my drink with a gulp.
Warm alcohol strips the tars from my throuat.
I drag again from the smoke.   Throat still feels crisp.

The new drink arrives, the old glass disappears.
I set aside the smoke.  Clasp both hands around the drink.
I stare straight ahead to rows of booze on the wall. 
My back faces the faces I usually examine for clues.

I've never felt lonliness when I was here with people.
I've never sat at the bar, always a booth.
A part of me has been severed and is lost forever.
Pain?  Not physical, but emotionally, I'm overwhelmed.

-dp-
3-14-83