poem of the day 07.03.10

shifts

you can tell that they’re
on the outs again
because mona is sitting alone in the bar
nursing her johnnie walkers
chasing them with short drafts of bud
she’s playing air supply songs on the jukebox
her face smeared from an afternoon of bawling
checking her cell phone like an addict

the bartender comes over to me
slams down the draft
just as i’m all out of love begins
says, “that’s the fourth time
i’ve heard that song this hour”
all i can think is that mona
has two of my bukowski novels at home
victims of a drunken book sharing moment
and that i’m probably never
going to see them again

mona starts crying
staggers over to the juke
to play more music when the air supply ends
she plays rock and roll from her 1990s heyday
bush, creed, collective soul
shit like that
bands from when her times were good
then she staggers out of the bar
and doesn’t come back

about a half hour later
benny comes in
he looks haggard
is wearing the same clothes that he had on last night
the bartender goes over to him
lays the shot of jack down like a gift
says, “she just left”
benny takes a hit on his drink
says, “that’s why i’m here now.
i've had it, i tell you.
she woke me up screaming and yelling
she was already drunk.
when i get home tonight
i'm kicking her out for good."

then he gets off of his stool
to play the grateful dead
and i think for sure
i’m not getting those bukowski books back.