Soliloquy

I curl

my fingers gracefully

around the neck

of my Bud Light. Inside

tight black heels

my toes curl nervously.

I will not fail my part.

This is my stage

though no one watches me.

-

I raise

the bottle slowly

to my lips

and sip seductively.

I set

it down, making

a tiny

ker-chik

no one hears but me.

The music is too loud

-

So loud it beats

my thoughts out of my

head, downward

past my heart

and further down

to the center of my pain

where all roads meet

and collide, with a tiny

ker-chik.

-

I scout for eyes: who

will fill my leading role,

will fill me up

and drink me down?

Who knows the secret

meaning of a half-drunk

bottle slowly raised

to parted lips?

Someday I will be found

-

but not tonight.

Not tonight. I slide

sideways off my stool

onto sore feet, leaving

six for the beer.

I don’t like beer

but it’s in the script.

-

I know no other part to play.

One night I might not fail,

or maybe quietly fall

apart, with no one watching.