by Joseph Rogers
Through these wooden bars I see
a scene enacted without me:
joy painted across your face;
an understudy in my rightful place.
This vinyl booth becomes my jail,
a prison of whiskey with shots for bail,
while red searchlights illuminate
the empty glasses that spell my fate.
We spoke until the sun rose,
when blues skies steal the warm light’s glow.
Music from your car flowed in tow,
a fitting finalé to our drunken show.
Artist: Lee Jung
Joseph Rogers is a graduate student finishing up his MA in English. He got into writing poetry as a method of trying to navigate his queer identity, and now much of his poetry surrounds the topic of unrequited emotions. Some of his work can be found in the Dash Literary Journal.