BOHEMIAN POETRY CIRCLE

a loose group of literary beats
sit in some basement bar
lights out
curtains down
smoking
unable to see their whiskey
or another blue sky glimpse

old poets growing old
unable to write anymore
no longer wanting to be disturbed
or shaped by conductors of words
or publish another BRUTAL poem
they sit in darkness staying drunk
fighting their SULLEN fate

forgotten bohemian poets
with uneasy reflections of yesterday
and their dead perfume
disputing their agonies and fears
with the whiskey of their silence
they no longer know the TRUTH
or how to lie