when the bar closes and i find myself still drinking

"you're such a lush" -C.R.

i ask for another one--
i've been here before
on the edge of a hangover
peering over the cliff
at every drink i consumed
that night, enough to swim in,
never enough.

i get in good with the bartender
by only asking for top shelf
and tipping double the bill

i won't remember
it in the morning
but my bank account will

sometimes i write love notes
on wet napkins
to the girl i'm going
to break up with
in my dreams because
she forgot my name
or i forgot my name
when she called
because the music
in my head was just
too loud

here they play jazz
and given that i like
to improvise, sometimes
i light a cigarette
at both ends and finger
the ash until i burn
but this is only when
the bar's been closed
an hour and even
the bartender is gone

the lights are off
and it's so quiet
i can hear the tic-toc
of my watch as i forget
my eyes aren't closed
and the people i hear
around me are only echoes
from hours before-- their
departure still ringing
in my drunken ears.