Neon (day 5)

There’s something almost noble in the way
the red sign, off its hinges and ajar
flickers the letter C off and on and
off again at strange intervals

I picture the door, itself off hinges and ajar
opening into the dark-enough so I can
barely see the cracked-leather stools
saving me a seat at the yellowing bar

There must be musty dark wood paneling
and stained orange and black shag carpet
and I will shuffle in, not saunter or stroll
to order my OLD BEER as advertised

 

What do you think?

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