Wednesday, February 20, 2013

poem of the day 02.20.13


he says he’s just kidding
but i wonder how hard i’d have to hit him
to get him off his stool

i mean would it take an effort on my part
or would one stiff blow to the cheek knock him out

but he claims he’s kidding

still, he keeps touching my shoulder
trying to turn me from side to side to check out my earrings

when all i’m trying to do is get a couple of beers at the bar
for me and my wife

he says, earrings

and i say, yeah, man, earrings

he looks at them like they’re some kind of foreign jewels
then he laughs at me

i’m trying to be peaceful here

saturday afternoon
the day after a blizzard

i understand the people have felt cooped up
and want to let off a little steam

even i’m out amongst the masses

but i don’t like this guy’s face for some reason
probably because he’s laughing at me and my earrings

i get a silly sense of rage when someone laughs at me
even at my age

or i just don’t like guys who can’t hold their drink

there’s little worse
than some loaded fool before five o’clock in the afternoon

and when i look back at my wife
she rolls her eyes

i wonder how much she likes drinking in this place
should i knock this guy on his ass

he catches me looking at her
turns toward my wife and smiles

says, earrings, and points to me as if she didn’t know

earrings, she says back to him

he flicks one of them and laughs again
as if this weren’t the twenty-first century

you some kinda pirate? he asks

and i say, yeah, looking at his fingers
figuring out the best way to break each one

but then our drafts come

and when i turn back toward the guy
he’s already on to someone else

some poor bastard who had the audacity to get a new haircut

then come walking into this bar
like he’s the mayor of new york city

or something.


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