Broken Jukebox

broken jukebox

In the corner of a bar, a broken song flows from a broken jukebox,
And broken people tap along to the curious rhythms:
Notes thud along the bar top and lyrics rewind their way out the door;
High notes leave fingerprints across grimy mirrors, then glide down back alleys.
No one drops their quarter through the rusty, metal slot,
But the jukebox bellows on, shouting songs that no one wants to hear.
A woman leans her fragile hip against the faded pool table.
Arms outstretched, she weighs her soul in the palms of her hands:
Grace in the left, Reality in the right
A man drinks from a chipped beer mug and swills the brew in his mouth.
He lights a thousand fires in the end of a single cigarette
Halos appear, then vanish, from around his head.
Nothing stands still until everything is still, until someone pulls the plug.
Motionless, they calculate just how long they must pay here on Earth for their sins.

Photo Credit: Trevor B
http://www.yelp.com/user_details?userid=RZQO4upsWa4__1D6XR-ScA

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Published by

CharMarie

Mommy, Writer, Teacher, BRCA2+ Previvor, Sports Fan, Logophile, Bibliophile, Hedonist, Perpetual Bon Vivant mixed with the Occasional Curmudgeon. you can find me on Twitter @CharIsAWriter and here at charcunning.wordpress.com

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