Southern Drunken Nights
Published in
Jan 7, 2024
My composure crumbled
when a loudmouth
that took to drink dark beer
and shattered a bottle at my feet
in the presence of a first date.
Fight or flee, maybe freeze?
Which would make this Southern belle doubt me?
He shouted and threw drunken punches.
I weaved through his swings
like swiss cheese
under a broken streetlight.
My narrow eyes turned
into crinkled slits.
My bloody knuckles
sting from socking
a windshield to punch
a bastard who called
my girl a bitch.
The man landed
on the winter pavement
struggling on his back
just where’d
he’d always been
looking up as people
cast down a gaze
at him.
And now, he’s my brother-in-law.
(© 2024 AC.)
