benny ends
on a street corner
in brooklyn
middle of the goddamned day
and he’s already drunk on jack
but who’s serving him?
banned from his favorite bar
banned from his second
favorite bar
fired as the bartender
from his third favorite bar
after only one night
because mona came in with some guy
and benny started firing
shot glasses at them
benny ended up back
at mona’s anyway
staying in the spare room now
night after night
as she brings home
a different guy to fuck
in the bed that they used to share
benny
he’s in bad shape
he’s gone off the deep end
shattered and done
but we all told him
told him about mona
the other guys and the bar
but benny wouldn’t listen
he told us he’s fifty-three
and to mind our own business
so now he stands there
on a street corner in brooklyn
stinking of sawdust
and whiskey
dressed in the same hawaiian shirt
and cargo shorts
he’s been in for a week
swaying
with the sun casting shadows
behind his back
and a light november breeze
tickling the gray whiskers
on his face.
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2 comments:
I know a Benny and he wears a plaid shirt..
i have been lax in reading your poems and for that I apologize, but...
I'm back on board..
Great poem!!
Lynne...don't sweat it. I appreciate when you and others do take the time to read...find it very cool. Yeah, my Benny (not his real name) is in bad shape.
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