He plays pool in the
side-bar where the women and the poles
aren't visible
except it didn't happen.

He was in the crowd, somewhere near the front.
Then he asked the waitress
if the champagne room
is available except it isn't there.

It used to be real.
Now it's weird how he falls
asleep without mentioning he was drunk,
that a small pool of bright blood

around his mouth didn't happen
because he wasn't
obnoxious enough to fight
although earlier on in the night

he wondered as he did about so many things
that didn't happen
quite as extravagantly as he imagined a trip
could be a journey

full of strippers he knows
exactly what they're thinking
if only they'd talk to him about their low
self esteem, their body image

mirrored by men who have to pay
and then pretend
it didn't happen
the way an argument ends.