junk bar

by on May 10, 2024 :: 0 comments

the bear strolled through the streets and
no one looked at him twice for junk
fairytales are no-holds-barred.
he strutted into the bar,
ordered bourbon straight
and the horse offered some complimentary nuts.
they talked philosophy, the drinker was too preoccupied
with Sartre and the barman
loathed the conversation.
some patrons in the corner hee-hawed,
what for they had no clue, they
were tripping.
someone entered,
a bizarre mix of several creatures, and ordered
a drink with every drink in it.
he swigged it down, thirty
drinks into one; his eyes rolled
to the back of his head and he
died.
the bear ate his brains,
the lion his guts,
and the tripping patrons shrugged the feast off.
in the junk bar everything’s allowed; when the
naked woman clambered out of the bathroom followed by
seven strutting elephants,
no one stirred. it was just
a usual day, and only when the
lights and the colors fade away innocence
is lost and imagination gets
burned on the cross.

– George Gad Economou

editors note:

In talk about losses and crosses you gotta ask, “What about THIS bear?” – mh clay

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