Scrapbook

I remember the days
Of vodka and grapefruit juice
That melted into nights
Of quarter draft beers

And the telemarketing jobs
Like scripted auditions
Where offscreen voices
Would say “Sorry, but no”

And the girls who would leave
Early next morning
With easy excuses
That seemed almost rehearsed

Leaving me listening
To a dust-covered album
That when I hear it now
Doesn’t sound the same

Richard Schnap is a poet, songwriter and collagist living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. His poems have most recently appeared locally, nationally and overseas in a variety of print and online publications.

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2 Responses to Scrapbook

  1. johnmay15 says:

    I read this with an increasing sense of frantic-ness and importance. I loved it.

  2. Dina Honour says:

    Ooh. I love this. Perhaps because of the way my own ass wore out its fair share of bar stools over the years. Nicely done.

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