Hope



Have another drink, she said,
and slapped the bar into submission.
I slid lower on my stool, embarrassed,
curving my spine for effect.
I wished that there was more light in here,
enough to see her damn teeth, at least.
I wanted to shoot pool
or trip over my feet and be dragged out on my back,
one or the other.
maybe even vomit on the floor
between my legs.
Her name was Hope,
and I found that cruel.