basement

Joseph Pinto, the barflypoet

‘basement’

mother doesn’t understand my profession. family holds their tongue. i’m reminded of strung hours in your futile ways while my own hands self-sacrifice till numb. down here the damp wreaks havoc waiting on blooming bones while booze goes slugged in detoured moments alone. all forget i claim a crown to king of men. i pave the ways without words to be said. as it was in the beginning so shall it be in the end. and so i wait. feet propped atop the table. a shiv sharp smile assiduously concealed.

basement

a low state, rank or condition

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© Joseph A. Pinto

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Poetry served raw and unedited from the moment crafted

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