Barfly

Oct 05, 2009 20:34

Barfly (Dedicated to the guy on the 2nd stool from the left as you walk into Crawdaddy's in West Chester, PA)

Grainy oak barrel faced, and
Here
more hours a week than the staff
Has his ringed fist form fitting into the octagon
of the base of his glass

I am reminded that the Grand Canyon was carved by slow flowing liquid and unforgiving time

Someone could hang a dialysis bag full of whatever-shelf bourbon
and cigarette butts above the drying rack
and drip it into this man to save him from ordering with words
and stepping outside

His conversation is a bear trap for attention
There are gnaw marks on the rail

Through his milkview and bloodshot everyone here is a tourist

He knows he is loud when the crowd doesn't seem noisy anymore

A crust of bar barnacle
That everyone is too polite to scrape out the front door

Through the fish eye lens of faith I envision
that each man's a shifty bloated reflection of a perfect God

So this one is
Allah the watchful
Allah the eternal
Allah the all knowing
Oh this one knows
everything

Ugly as a gargoyle, as weatherbeaten,
Winged barfly - stationary
Ignored by all with common sense

And how many angels will juke box dance on the head of a pin
fifteen minutes to closing time for I?

poem, boozing

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