THE COLD & THE RAIN & A GIRL FROM PARIS IN A KARAOKE BAR

by Bradford Middleton

The night is cold & the rain is falling but that’s nothing

unusual for this rubbish summer—damn you 2024,

when all I have to do is walk. 

I walk & I wander & I stroll this town as if I have no

home but, don’t worry, my life ain’t got that bad, it’s just

fallen a bit flat. 

The bars are behind me now & since Covid this room of

mine has ruled my life but still I walk on out virtually

every single day & some things never change.

Last night I walked on out & wandered just like I

always used to when I spied a gang of clubbers in their

hippest new outfits & I had to laugh!

They let out a collective scream as their taxi driver

let them out at the end of Saint James’s & the rain

fell on their immaculate outfits.

They ran for cover, seemingly unable to comprehend the

rain ain’t going to stop for them, or any of us, as their

privilege dripped from every orifice until, at last, they

made a run for it & off into the nonstop karaoke bar

with a never-ending happy hour where I once met a

girl from Paris who subsequently dragged me off to

the beach which sure made for a better scene than that

nightmare of a bar.

Bradford Middleton lives in Brighton, England.  Recent poems have, or will shortly appear, at Dear Booze, Cajun Mutt’s Night Owl Narrative #1, Mad Swirl, Stink Eye Magazine, Beatnik Cowboy, and Fixator Press.  His most recent chapbook, The Whiskey Stings Good Tonight…, came out last year through Alien Buddha Press.