Wednesday, September 10, 2014

In the use to be's

the smell of stale cigarettes and beer floating in the air with the mingling of desperation drenched sweat Kenneth Cole meet me out back for a line and some time....all to the rhythm of a hearfelt rendition of Jeff Healy's Angel Eyes. Me, cigarette in mouth, shooting pool, coasting on the melt with my black knee high boots and mini skirt...keeping a watchful eye on the DJ. 

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