Drunken Checkers

Drink in hand
Eighth one since I got here
I search the bar

Playing my game
Looking for the next chess piece to move
I pull off my rounds
Find another bird to sit next to

Small moans
Gentle caress finger tips
A murmur in her ear
Asking where she wants to go tonight

Who’d she rather take out
The King or the Queen
Would she win or lose
Will I go home
Or will she play for another round?

I stumble away
When I’m done eating palm
And your raging rejection’

I can barely recite the sentence
The one playing on repeat
Since I figured what my dick was.

I see her across the bar
Hiding beneath curtains of hair
I don’t blame her

Her Small craters
Extra-terrestrial black hairs growing out of bulging moles
Zits on lumped cancerous, brick in a Ziploc bag tits.

If I hadn’t been a shot away from death I would have gagged
Even she sent me to another board
Saying “not tonight pal”
For another game of chess

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