Alleyway

An alleyway back to the Mount Baker
No one questions Jack along the journey
Smoked oysters and cheese
Beer in the fridge, wine in hand
City bus destination display says “sorry”
For whom? Jack contemplates
Sun is going down at five and a quarter
The Peelers are puttin' on the feathers and lace
Ah the fake orgasms
Practice looking tough in the mirror
No one will fuck with Jack Hynes
No one
Jen works the bar with bleach blond hair
She can’t smell the oyster farts
What an ass
Tall white boots
Tattooed shoulder blade
She ask Jack if he’s an alcoholic
Lets buy her a drink
Satin and she’s gone
Only a slippery spot left on the dance floor
Bobby that fucken Indian boy comes in to score five bucks
Knew he wanted something
Jack fucking Hynes
Solid mirror
Tough guy
White curtains and shitty music
Cunt from legs down
Here to stay
Checkerboard red and black tiles
Looking through crossed eyes
Can’t see straight at 7:30pm
Next peeler walks in
Avoiding the void
God she’s tall and dirty blond
Front row center
Gotta piss
Impositioned by her position
She folds to eat herself
She’s delicious
What a happy girl
For a 20 she’ll join Jack in the alley