Monday, June 8, 2009

poem of the day 06.08.09


she grabs my arm
and says
i’m sorry but i don’t think
i know you
i put down my beer
and tell her
it’s fine
millions of people don’t know me
and she lets go
to sit back down with her old man
maybe her father
he looks eighty
she looks sixty
he has a beer in front of him
and she has a rum and coke
they were drunk when they
walked in this joint
can’t we get any music
in here? she says
can’t i smoke in here?
come on
come on
she keeps telling her old man
it’s fine
don’t worry
but he won’t touch his beer
just watches the floor
as she fiddles with her newport
digging through her purse
with the other hand
to find a light
anyone got a light?
she asks
but no one answers
they just watch jeopardy
or the yankees game
well, can you call us a cab?
she asks the bartender
and he dials the phone
quicker than i’ve ever seen him move
for anything
then says they’ll be here in minutes, darling
before going to the other end of the bar
to look for the cab
outside the neon-soaked window
come on
come on
she prods the old man
at which point he looks up
from the floor with sad, baggy
old man eyes
eyes tired of looking at the world
and grabs the sweaty bottle
just as she finds a light
and stumbles off the stool
to go outside
and have a quick smoke
in the summer rain
smiling my way
one more person out of millions
who knows me now

1 comment:

Issa's Untidy Hut said...

this one's a doozy ... thanks, Don