closing time

martin walked in 

all casual like 

no idea what time it was he picked out 

a bottle of gin 


copper distilled 

wax seal 


an employee had him

leave through the back exit 

the employee 

had just locked 

the front doors 

martin walked back 

past the front doors 

to make it to his place 

by foot 

there were four people lined

up all men, different ages 

each trying the doors 


“It’s not even fucking seven!”

their hearts in their throats it

must have been like 

a pharmacy closing 

for them 

martin joked he’d sell 

them his bottle 

at double retail 

then they jumped his ass

and one of them ran off

with his gin 

and another ran off 

with his shoes 

a pair of k swisses 

martin woke up sober 

in the lot 

in his socks 

in the dark 

in the night

Adam Johnson lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

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