in a bar the other night

the evening escpaed me before it had even begun

staring at the same beer I had been drinking for an hour

i think i am staring at it

i think i can feel it in my hand

the same hand that held that empty beer at that frat house at least a hundred months ago

i hear it swish in my hand

and i look to the bar realize there is no sound

so i sit there and listen to an irish girl sing irish songs

until she starts singing me and bobby mcgee

and i shake a bit and think of my mother

and then i trail off again as I always do when I hear that song

and i think of the night in the bar with dan

coming home and looking in my bag for the piece of paper i scribbled that sentenece on

the same sentence i know i will write about later- years later

"why does it seem every woman who enters a bar after 10:30 pm thinks she can sing like janis joplin"

and i think back to those nights

and that money

and those nights

and miss them faintly for all the right reasons for once

---

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