The Vernon

A poem about my favorite drinking establishment.

crushed peanut shells litter the floor,
neon flickers in the windows,
dusty model ships line the bar,
laughter with a friend since primary school,
the bartender is an old man,
small, white hair, button-up shirt,
“how about another one, boys?”
“that would be great!”
“a dollar a piece.”
this low life is a good life.