
Photo by chester wade on Unsplash
Last Thing I Hear
I bzz-buzz his beer
‘cuzz it’s bittersweet.
He shoos me;
irritatedly,
so I bzz-buzz her martini.
She’s staring past me,
through him, past his seat,
to wherezz? Why ask me?
I’m to bzz-busy, you see?
This bzz-sequence is key!
She ignored me! I’m in!
Sweet delectable sin!
Bzzyum yummy-yum,
oh I knew I’d love rum,
now-drowsy, oh no,
the bar scene runs slow;
no one can save the groove,
molasses-mellow,
morass-indigo;
wings heavy with
melancholy
fate and doom
sweet regret swells,
atrophy and ache,
can’t movezzz!
She frownszz,
slow-blink,
he frownszz,
I drink, I drownzz,
I think, unwound;
can we flies think?
Impaired,
the bland bar muzzac
disappearszz
into thin air.
Do flies have earszz?
Meh, I don’t care,
but the last thing that I hearszz,
before it all vanished into ether
he zz-said to her wet eyelids,
with scarcely a whisper,
“I’d have given you kids;
we’d have been good together.”
***
Inspired by dVerse Poetics: Surrealism in Poetry, hosted by Linda Lee Lyberg. Other poets contributed here.