Late Night at the Black and Blues Bar

Photo by Sarah Lim
Photo by Sarah Lim

By Sarah ChristianScher

Alice is late
Alice is gone
Alice has no last name
just a taste of bitters
that lingers on my tongue
coating it like a tweed jacket
my mouth is itchy
might be the tiny devil sitting in my whiskey glass
I think he pokes my soft insides with his pitchfork when I swallow
don’t want him in my drinks
but the bartender says that it’s complimentary
so I stop complaining
don’t want to seem like a bastard
I’m a bastard in disguise
not bothering to learn the last names of the girls I take to bed
maybe that’s why they disappear in the morning like fog
if they were ever there at all
maybe it’s just that devil again
sneaking into my sheets to poke and pinch
my ass feels like it has recently been home to a hot poker
the devil in my bed has three-day stubble and says his name is Jules
but I think I’ll call him Mephisto

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