THE COMBAT ZONE ( Boston, Mass. 1990 ) by Jeffrey Littrell

undaunted, he approached me

with an off-putting grin

asking if I’d like to go

and have a drink with him

 

I told him straight up

all that I was after was a score

but what he had in mind

involved a little something more

 

I walked off down the street

amid the persistent sirens

going in and out

of different decadent environs

 

they crept inside the shadows

as black as obsidian

pure evil personified

with eyes vaguely reptilian

 

a strip club called “The Naked Eye”

provided medication

dancers moved emotionless

in the throes of sweet sedation

 

with my addiction sated

as the warmth inside me spread

I walked out of The Combat Zone

infused with guilt and dread

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About digthroughlife

I am a fifty-three year old poet who also writes fiction. I worked twenty-three years for the USPS, though never enthusiastically. I am a member of French Writers Worldwide and have had several poems published in French and Spanish. I hold strong opinions on music, film, and human rights. Some of my influences are Charles Bukowski, Arthur Rimbaud, Dylan Thomas, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, Sylvia Plath, W.B Yeats, Bob Marley, William Blake, and Hunter S. Thompson. I'm an avid fan of the New York Yankees, Oakland Raiders, and Indiana Pacers. I like traveling by car. I enjoy seeing rock and alt-country bands in small venues. I hold a black belt in Taekwondo, but no longer spar due to injuries incurred in a motorcycle accident in 2005. I play acoustic guitar. I love Crown Royal whiskey and California Kush. Women are both the bane of my existence and all that sustains me. I believe strongly in the power of love and heartbreak. View all posts by digthroughlife

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