Juan’s Basement ala 2005

Four friends stand around a foldout table,
ten yellow solo cups lined like bowling pins,
a ping pong ball to knock each one down,
laughter creeping up the stairs
to his parent’s room,
Dan’s girlfriend can’t orgasm,
and a bottle of six dollar wine broken against
the cement slabbed floor,
Devin’s never felt the grip between
a girl’s legs, he puked a week ago,
and Mike can’t stop talking about
the unimaginable sex with his ex,
and the smell of puke and the wine
rise from below the table,
as Juan stares with blankness,
amazed at the bullshit friends
put themselves through,
he buries his hands in his pockets
and smiles with the pleasure of
having a girl ask him to take her to dinner,
the smooth player,
and somewhere on this floor a tear
dissolved with the puke and wine,
and dirty feet walked over the
puke tear and wine covered floor,
the footsteps filling the basement,
echoes of laughter and tears,
a couple fucking on a futon next to his bed,
the bass of the stereo bouncing off the ceiling,
the echoes trapped and buried under
the mop washing it up in the morning,
the stains unwashable.

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About Michael Medlen

My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.
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