Monday, January 24, 2011

poem of the day 01.24.11


we’ve been talking
about b.j.’s disappearance from the bar
like a couple of gossips
wondering if he went ahead
and fucked that
skinny little bartender
on one of her lonely tuesday nights
devin, our wednesday guy,
has been doing his part to egg us on
showing up drunk at work
from his other gig in the city
serving us free pints
so we get more and more lathered
in the booze
just like him
flapping our gums
as he leans over the bar
looking at us with sad eyes
asking, where’s b.j. been?
as if we hang out together
beyond this place
saying, seven years, man
b.j.’s been married seven years
so it’s gotta be tough on him
he’s got a kid, you know
and when we inquire further
devin waves us off and stumbles away
shouting at the newscasters on the tv
to take off their clothes
starts talking about tits and ass
to the other guys in the bar
we think to try and hide the fact
that he’s gay
because why else would he wear an earring
in the wrong ear?
but b.j’s disappearance has left a void here
the old joint has lost a certain je ne sais quoi
a little culture and class with him gone
plus devin’s out almost forty bucks a week
in tips
so b.j., if you’re out there tonight
my good man
we hope everything is all right
we hope that you didn’t fuck
the little bartender
with the kind ass and the big mouth
and we hope to see you back at the joint soon
drinking your jack
your pints of beer
talking about franzen and douglas coupland novels
while ivan drunk dances
and everyone else blames it on the arabs
checking your cell phone
every few minutes to see
if the wife has texted you
or if it’s getting close to the time
when you have to start on home.

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