Where I'm At

by Lucas Stensland

I don't want to
go home just yet
and check the mail
this bar reminds me
of where I'm at

the woman
sitting left of me
almost has her laugh
a whiskey sour
is my drink tonight

thoughts of those
famous soft white shoulders
the hills of heaven
are only clouds awaiting
this drunken kiss

the stool
she used to sit upon
occupied by an obese man
sometimes time changes
in the wrong direction

I don't know the name
of this neighborhood or bar
but I’ll be here again
the smell of some river
the smell of cheap beer