poem of the day 09.24.12

talking poetry with the liquor store man

i ask the liquor store man if i can use his phone

but he just stares at me from behind his pulpit

the one that has all of  those scotch pints incased in glass

i tell the liquor store man that it’s important

the bus never showed

and my wife is waiting for me

i don’t own a cell phone, i tell the liquor store man

you got to find the humor in that in this day and age

but he just shuffles receipts and sighs

looks out the window at the rain that has drenched me

made me look like a lunatic

come on, man, i say, be decent

although i hate begging

i shouldn’t have to beg

because i’ve spent a lot of money in this store

since i started working in this neighborhood

the liquor store man and i both know that he’s been dressing better

since i came to town

he should be begging me to buy a liter of whiskey

but he doesn’t

he just rearranges the mini bottles

throws a few more in the plastic tub for good measure

as i look around the store, think about buying a bottle of wine

and walking home

i tell him that my wife will be worried

the liquor store man knows that there are wives all over the city

who are worried

he sells alcohol, after all

he sort of manufactures worry

you know me, i say

i’m a good guy, i tell the liquor store man

i’m a poet and you can look me up on all of the internets

that seems to work

the liquor store man grabs the store phone at first

but then he gives me his cell phone

thanks, i tell him

it’s a local call

he nods and grabs his laptop

watches me closely as i call my wife

i’d like to think he’s looking me up

that he’s proud to have a poet who buys liquor from his store

but he probably thinks that i’m just another drunkard

on a tuesday evening

another one who can’t get his shit right.