no one wins
john
the old timer
the one who used
to sit next to you
almost every night
watching jeopardy
and complaining about the jukebox
john
who raised the ire
of the staff of bartenders
for nursing one beer
and not tipping
whose collection
of nelson demille novels
lines the back wall
of this joint
has been holed up
in a vet’s hospital for two weeks
turns out
that he was homeless
his vendor license expired
and taken back by
this unforgiving city
john
didn’t sell anything
the other drunks said
when they told me
he just sat there
and collected a fee from
the foreign bootleggers
no one knows
if he’s doing well or not
no one cares
but jeopardy isn’t on the tv
and the jukebox is ripping tonight
jazzy jeff downs his beer
and announces to all gathered
that there are two types of women
in this world
bitches and whores
and the newspapers agree with him
today the times told me
that the tears of women
are a turn- off to men
i look at my wife
shrug
and wish that i could take her
somewhere better
to get drunk on a wednesday night
yet again
no one wins
still
it’s hard to sit here
thinking about john
the tears of women
and the world
letting my secret fear run wild
the one where these cretins get up
and lock the door to the bar
make my wife and i pay
for not being regulars here since birth
it’s hard to sit here
and think about all of the loss
that it takes
just to make up a single day
it’s better to turn your head
toward the television
tap a foot to the music
agree with jazzy jeff
and not think a single thought about
poor john
wait for someone to score
in the game that’s playing on mute
cheer along with everyone
when the winning team does it
safe with the knowledge
that even the best of the best
drop one-third of their games
a season.
How true
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