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.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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.

Leave a Reply to Dina Honour Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.