Poesía
"Bulletproof"
the pub had wooden picnic tables
that looked like driftwood
scavenged from
the murky long beach surf
sticky floors
beer
piss
blood
who knows?
it was too dark anyway
the doors were
always closed
and in the dim glow
of christmas lights
you could see
the sullen faces of
workingmen
tired old and beaten
with the wives at home
or long gone with the kids
and the mother-in-law
up north
and the young bartender here
wearing that black skirt
that rippled
when the door would open
like the dark water under the pier
and the beer would flow
and the beer would flow
but the tips wouldn't
"why'd you give her sucha big tip," my friend asked
sitting across the bench
with the carved obscenities
and crudely chiseled penises
"i don't know. she always serves me first
and always knows without asking
i want the largest, darkest beer.
27 degrees and 34 ounce schooners."
i pointed to the digital temperature meter
at the back of the bar which read "27,"
and knocked on the inch-thick glass of the mug
"bulletproof," i said
he nodded but didnt seem to understand
"you know you just wanna fuck
that dumb bitch," he slurred
and took another long swig from the schooner
"just because i give a good tip
doesn't mean i want to fuck her
like those assholes, joe," i nodded
toward the bar without lowering my voice,
"plus she goes to college around the corner
studies english and pays her way through"
joe looked away from the assholes to me
"don't give me that sentimental commie bullshit.
you just want to fuck her. admit it"
just then we heard the loud
echoing sound of a car crash
a schooner was now
shattered to pieces
where she dropped it
in the stainless steel
wash basin
two older men
one in a blue dodger cap
leaned over the rail
to watch her clean
the shards of thick glass
"shit. i told you.
a dumb cunt like any other,"
he smiled triumphantly,
"all i can say is watch yourself
and keep your money"
i took a long drink
and smiled back
"sounds like some girl
broke your heart"
then i noticed it:
a quick, momentary
shift in demeanor
and for a minute
i saw in his 22-year-old face
the expression i had seen
so many times
helpless, lost
like the faces of
my cellmates
forgotten in jail
like the animals
i hunted as a boy
that bled and bled and bled quietly
and waited for me to end
the pumping blood
like the faces
i had seen at that pub
childless
womanless
hopeless
but he dropped his eyes
down at the beer
and it was gone
"yeah," he muttered
without looking up
i picked up my schooner to finish
and read underneath
where the beer had rested
on the scarred wooden tabletop:
"WHORE"
i looked up at joe
who only looked down
then i got up
walked to the bar
set the money on the counter
for another round
while carefully avoiding
a shard of glass
the pub had wooden picnic tables
that looked like driftwood
scavenged from
the murky long beach surf
sticky floors
beer
piss
blood
who knows?
it was too dark anyway
the doors were
always closed
and in the dim glow
of christmas lights
you could see
the sullen faces of
workingmen
tired old and beaten
with the wives at home
or long gone with the kids
and the mother-in-law
up north
and the young bartender here
wearing that black skirt
that rippled
when the door would open
like the dark water under the pier
and the beer would flow
and the beer would flow
but the tips wouldn't
"why'd you give her sucha big tip," my friend asked
sitting across the bench
with the carved obscenities
and crudely chiseled penises
"i don't know. she always serves me first
and always knows without asking
i want the largest, darkest beer.
27 degrees and 34 ounce schooners."
i pointed to the digital temperature meter
at the back of the bar which read "27,"
and knocked on the inch-thick glass of the mug
"bulletproof," i said
he nodded but didnt seem to understand
"you know you just wanna fuck
that dumb bitch," he slurred
and took another long swig from the schooner
"just because i give a good tip
doesn't mean i want to fuck her
like those assholes, joe," i nodded
toward the bar without lowering my voice,
"plus she goes to college around the corner
studies english and pays her way through"
joe looked away from the assholes to me
"don't give me that sentimental commie bullshit.
you just want to fuck her. admit it"
just then we heard the loud
echoing sound of a car crash
a schooner was now
shattered to pieces
where she dropped it
in the stainless steel
wash basin
two older men
one in a blue dodger cap
leaned over the rail
to watch her clean
the shards of thick glass
"shit. i told you.
a dumb cunt like any other,"
he smiled triumphantly,
"all i can say is watch yourself
and keep your money"
i took a long drink
and smiled back
"sounds like some girl
broke your heart"
then i noticed it:
a quick, momentary
shift in demeanor
and for a minute
i saw in his 22-year-old face
the expression i had seen
so many times
helpless, lost
like the faces of
my cellmates
forgotten in jail
like the animals
i hunted as a boy
that bled and bled and bled quietly
and waited for me to end
the pumping blood
like the faces
i had seen at that pub
childless
womanless
hopeless
but he dropped his eyes
down at the beer
and it was gone
"yeah," he muttered
without looking up
i picked up my schooner to finish
and read underneath
where the beer had rested
on the scarred wooden tabletop:
"WHORE"
i looked up at joe
who only looked down
then i got up
walked to the bar
set the money on the counter
for another round
while carefully avoiding
a shard of glass