Drinking the Last Beer

by James Babbs

sitting in my own kitchen
drinking the last beer of the night and
of course
I’m thinking about women
the ones I couldn’t get
the ones who never wanted me and
I’m contemplating death
not necessarily my own death
but just the general notion
of what happens to us in the end
maybe
it’s all the years of booze
soaking through my brain
that makes me think about these things or
maybe
it’s something else
I don’t know
then
for some reason I start
wondering where strippers go
when they get too old and
nobody wants them anymore
I mean
how can it be easy
after all the years of dancing
and showing their bodies to men
for them to slip into
a so-called normal life
but the bottle’s empty now
I throw it in the trash
slowly
make my way to the bedroom
because
I’m ready for some sleep