billy knuckles
he tells my wife
his name is billy knuckles
he says that’s what
the black dudes in prison called him
of course he’s been in prison
everyone in this joint has a prison story
they changed the name of this place
classed it up with more tvs and fireplaces
raised the beer prices
and sell coke out of the bathroom instead of weed
still you can put lipstick on a pig….
anyway billy knuckles probably went to jail
for not paying his taxes or writing bad checks
just like the rest of them
but it’s enough for him to tell the story
we’ve been drinking beer with him
for two hours now
after he started eavesdropping in on our conversation
we’ve pumped too many dollars in the juke
we’ve listened to too many good and bad songs
billy knuckles loves nirvana and pearl jam
i’m a grunge baby, he tells us
i think better him than me
because nothing good came out of the nineties
in my opinion
but billy knuckles bleeds that decade
before prison, he says
then sucks down some more guinness
he’s an ex-con with refined tastes
when he stumbles back over to the juke
to play another golden oldie from the bush/clinton era
my wife leans over and says
if nothing else at least you’ll get a poem out of this
evening
but i tell her i’m bored
with writing about guys like billy knuckles
it used to be fun drinking with guys like that
but now he’s just an impediment
he cock blocks the evening’s joy
with his nostalgia and his opinions
the oral history of cell block four
i’d rather be in prison
than listen to this guy, i say
as billy knuckles screams from the jukebox
because a staind song came on
my anthem, he says, coming over with his hands raised
ready for our seventh high-five this hour
we should try wine bars, i tell my wife
i think i’m ready for the wine bar crowd now
he’s just lonely, she says
so is everyone else, i say
as two new beers appear before us
slapped down by the bartender
with the suds going all over the glossy wood
courtesy of billy knuckles
our new best friend
tonight’s benevolent warden
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