The last call, I gave it with a smile

The clean up in a smokey cinder box

That bottle of cold beer

God, it tasted good after a night

of drunks slobbering over my clean bar

More bottles of beer to clear my eyes

One day finding myself in a garage heap

in the alley…the sun rising over rainbow glass

The last call, so long ago

Rags, I called clothes, no home, no money

Brother, can you spare a five, I gotta eat

I struggled to be a writer behind that bar

Who was I trying to kid?

I was learning my inborn vocation

Now, having found it in this foul alley

The bottle empty…no money for more

Not all drunks sink this low

Falling into colored glass like a church window

Sun beams strike glass to blind me

Crawling on hands and knees

A blood trail into the street

Get up, you bum! a voice says

I need a drink, Oh God, I need a drink

Someone hands me a bottle

Someone pulls me back into the alley

This is the last call, Buddy

While I struggle with the knife in my chest

And he takes my five and leaves me there

to die…