Men with obligations set by decree, juggling
unyielding schedules of that which they must,
and choices made. Biding time in serviceable
downtown cocktail lounges, enjoying neither
atmosphere or clientele. Patrons, of common
trait, finding consolation from the noise of life.
Well-educated, yet not wise enough to admit
mistakes. Whiskey, here, and a misplaced sense
of company. Stuck between several homes they
occupy, but feel comfort in neither. Displaced.
Waiting. Weak. A customary phone call from
a young son who wonders, or the mistress who
has stolen him away. Are you coming home?
04/18/17                                                               ©2016 j.g. lewis