three sad sacks

she gyrated
absently
around
the brass pole
as the bass
thumped
and all i could do
was stare at the
pitcher
of piss yellow
just as
apathetically
bubbling
on the table
with one
short leg
that wobbled
like the
waitress
with the fake leg
that kept
winking at me.

we may
have been
the three
saddest people
on the planet
but it is
dark enough
to make it all
fade away.

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