listen to the poet

The stairs going down were narrow and steep, she held on to the brass banister, like a child holding the hand of a parent in a crowd. Slowly moving one step at a time, squinting into light she wouldn’t even describe as dim. She thought to herself, “ They should hand out flashlights and a canary to people as they enter. I feel like a coal miner descending into the depths of the earth. “ Reaching the bottom, she breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“ What’s with the lights in this place? Who forgot to pay the electric bill? “ she heard someone behind her yell. She smiled to herself, as she made her way to an empty table close to the front. Laying her fake black leather coat over the back, she settled into the chair. A candle’s flame danced, at the center of the table. She needed a drink.

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