PDF

The Mad Ones


by Damion Hamilton


On the parking lot of the bar, two in the afternoon

You notice the battered car, dented up body of a Ford escort,

No hubcaps, plastic in two of windows,

It yells a story to you

A familiar story


Head into the bar

2 O' clock in the afternoon


It's a nice, sunny, warm  Saturday afternoon too


And before you came, you wondered what
You would do this day,


A day off from work


Some people might have went fishing, or
Camping or to a park to enjoy the 
Weather


But not you 


You enter the bar, as you have entered it
A couple of thousand times before


It's dark in there

On a sunny Saturday afternoon

Its dark, smoking dreary and smells like
Sex


You order your beer, get it and sit far away
From everyone


 Ur trying to hide


The girl dancing on stage, reminds

Of  a starved cat on meth.


She's dancing hard


Aint nobody watching


The music is loud and very bad,


As she yells out, “fucker.”


You sip the drink slowly


You have no better place to be



The girl dancing is mad--they say
She cant work regular job, when I
See her, she always threatening to
Quit


She's been saying that for two years


She walks over you and asks for a dollar

You want to tell her something funny, or sexy

But am too damned depressed to do it


You stay and drink a couple more


Until its less sunny outside


You leave and head back to a beat up

Old  96 Pontiac Grand Am, no hubcaps,
Dented body, trashed insides


Ur a Mad One Too
















Endcap