Poem No. 1

Here’s the prompt:

 

Leave it behind. Leave these thoughts
behind at the bar, in the bottom of a drink,

*

from “False Spring” by Gina Myers

 

Here’s the poem:

 

In school, I thought I’d be a libertine
But when I stepped behind that blaring door
and saw the writhing wretches in the bar,
the mating season dances underway,
I felt a sordid dread and knew I’d always be

Prude
Puritan
Temperance Wife

 

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