chase scene #9

we’re in mcglinchey’s, dancing to the juke box, iggy
pop. no dancing, says bartender, but we keep dancing,
the waitress comes over, for real stop dancing or you
gotta leave. it’s the law somehow, but we’re drunk
and we want you, come dance w/ us, please—please be
the girl we used to love way way back, she won’t crack
the slightest smile. i don’t know who i’m even talking to.
is this a poem? a poetry reading? she drags my dead horse
across the bar and says look, who wants this joke. you
think it’s my job to listen to you, it’s not—it’s to serve
you hot dogs while you drink yourself back to the womb—
which is what—you don’t know, and that’s your job—to
find out. i’m not the passenger. i do not ride and ride
and ride.