Two men walk into a bar for a quick beer.
Jeans, t-shirt, walking a good foot apart.
Too many drinks,
and he thinks, he thinks,
this is what a man does.
Guy at the bar guffaws “Fags!”
hyuck, hyuck.
Goes back to pawin’ at this girl sittin’ next to him.
Didn’t look to see if it was workin’.
‘Course, if this were a Tarantino flick,
god if this were a Tarantino flick.
Sat and watched the sunset yesterday.
Took the kitchen chairs and sat on the fire-escape,
pipe and good tobacco and a long, long talk.
After, went to the bar.
Met someone else’s friends and watched a wedding crash itself.
Kid (older than me, but still) in a bowtie starts quotin’ Mean Girls,
blond crew cut in the hockey jersey across from me, he starts mockin’.
And he don’t mean nothin’ by it, don’t ever mean nothin’ by it, promise,
promise,
promise,
promise.
‘Course, if this were a Tarantino flick,
god if this were a Tarantino flick.
And them midwest storms start a ragin’,
thunder rollin’,
lightnin’ streakin’ the sky for minutes at a time.
It rains.
God, if this were a Tarantino flick.
