poem of the day 11.08.10

wtf?

we are sitting in the bar

it looks like our old bar
but there’s a bowl
of halloween candy
resting between used pint glasses

and there are candles
that smell like christmas

the bartender is female
she was born after vietnam
and there are no sports games
on the television

the people sitting on stools
are different

newer

younger by decades

the men have trim beards
and the women have white teeth

they drink wine and heineken
talk quietly in conversations
that do not end in fisticuffs

shit, i tell my wife
there’s even a candle
in the men’s room

what in the fuck
happened to this place?
she asks

i don’t know, i say
but i like it
we could use a little peace after work
a little class after all of these years

yes, she says
but what are you going
to write poems about now?

i don’t know

i pick up a christmas candle
cranberries or some other scent

i’ll write about christmas, i say
christmas and snowfalls
horses and happy
summer days that never end

there’s always something
to write about, i say

then we take a package of bottlecaps
out of the candy bowl

eat a root beer flavored one

as the couple next to us
discusses the work
of bon iver

whoever the fuck that is.