The Columbus Chronicles, episode 4
We can still smoke in the bar
a relief for the reprobates
Pretty soon the pine smell is obliterated and a
blue haze floats just above our heads
We’ve become animated, my barfly friends and me
outside the sun creeps down the west side of the street
and brightens the inside just barely
we play liar’s poker, crack peanuts so stale
the shells are rubber pellets
popcorn is fresh, though
The woman with the Lucy eyelashes and smeared lipstick
laughs out loud with a bray that donkeys envy
I see black molars and bits of popcorn falling out of her mouth
A younger guy, maybe 25. slips off his stool and staggers to
the men’s room. We laugh and catcall at his stumbling
silently vow to make sure we don’t do the same thing
After all, it’s only 7 am and real people that do real jobs
are prancing down the sidewalk
and we aren’t there