Tuesday, March 16, 2010

poem of the day 03.16.10


nothing is right
in this joint this evening

everyone looks the same


the world is tired

he comes over to me
after i’ve stood two quarters
upright on the bar

he says
something isn’t right

i know, i say

he grabs his chin
and rubs it
he means my face
something isn’t right with
my face

what is it? he asks

i shaved
i got rid of the goatee

that’s it, he says
i had a beard for like
three years
and this one night
i was in here
you remember caroline, right?
she moved to australia
well, caroline was here
she was standing right behind
mara and i
she said to me, she said
you look like an asshole like that
i just let that one go
you look like an asshole
then i got up and went into
the bathroom, back there
i punched the wall
broke my finger

shit, man

oh, one more thing

he slams the bar and my quarters
fall back the way they were

then he laughs
and pats me on the back

strange, my wife says
when he walks back down
to the end of the bar

very, i say.

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