Buscamos el Gato con Cinco Pies

The Pub Poetry Series

The Pub Poetry Series is composed of poems I’ve written at bars, pubs, nighttime establishments, on napkins, or about men whose names I don’t even remember.  The majority of these poems were written between 2006 – 2011.  They are a nostalgic reminder of my youth and naivety in situations of the heart and it is with great humility (though this may not be a quality of any of the pieces) that I leave these as snippets of a moment for your enjoyment and or cringing.


Buscamos el Gato con Cinco Pies


I didn’t plan on feeling a damn thing

In this bar when this song played

They never ID me anymore

Makes me feel grown enough

To order my drink neat

Young enough to pretend not to notice

The friends I brought kissing


I’m pulling myself together

like blood on a wound congealing

Like a scab waiting for you

to pick it

For old time’s sake


Desperation don’t look good on me

‘Cause this bar has a fly strip

A fuckin’ fly strip

And I don’t know what to think

Other than it is January

The month where loneliness

is a contagious disease

Nude calendars become prophetic poetry

As does my single malt whiskey

And I’m alone again at some bar writing


I didn’t expect to remember everything I’d miss

Secretly resenting yours, mine and their kiss

Or that whiskey doesn’t help forget any faster

Like my feelings under guise

Of straight-faced blatant lies

That I actually believed

Once upon a time


The men creep closer the more melancholy

I must seem so easy and alone; my friends kissing

I’m a fly strip at some bar in January

This sadness don’t look good on me

No, it don’t look good on me

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