poem of the day 09.03.14

it pays to drink at home

a jukebox full of my hard-earned dollars

playing james brown and the temptations

and it’s still not good enough for this guy

he has to have his cell phone blasting

some club song to impress his friends

when the bartender comes over to see what’s up

he says, whatever, man, i’m puetro rican

by way of an excuse

it’s been a long hard summer that won’t end

i’ll be honest i’ve been looking

to hurt someone since june

and this guy sort of fits the bill

so i glare at him until he notices

hoping he wants to go the rounds

instead he shuts the phone off and shrugs to his buddies

he starts talking about how he was a marine

looking at me while he tells everyone around him

how tough you got to be to get through basic

then he and his buddies have another margarita

he complains to the bartender how last time

he used too much lime juice

then they start quoting classic films

and giggling like little girls

as smokey robinson struggles over the din

and the bartender says to me

hey, man, you ever chase a vodka shot

with a glass of pickled beet juice?

pouring me something ice white and blood red

into two perfect little glasses

meant to take it all away