Leaning against the bar of wishful drinking

The bar reeks of downtrodden men, tortured present and irretrievable past.
Monday heartache and weekend tarts.
Drip Tray drowning in slurred frothy truth,
Beer towel stained with spillage and bluff.
The floor a carpet of careless trash,
the patina of hopelessness mingling with splinters of glass.
Pints to forget are served to the eager, the friendship of strangers sought out by the speaker,
their telling of stories from a chaos of loathing both tragic and comical to those painted with the agony of knowing.
The jukebox jumble, an earthquake masking,
the sound of unfettered dismay and shackled fuming.
Disco and pop, the illusion of fun, the anger of rap more nostalgic crap,
the poetry of pain backed by a dizzying tune,
toe tapping delirium forsaken in three minutes time.
The fake delight exhaled from Landlords breath,
their friendship eternal or at least until the alcohol ruins your health.
Smoke free interior, electric bright.
Disinfectant odour come Saturday night.
..... Time Gentlemen Please.