[First Post] 13
Pool balls, cue stick.
They breed big boys here,
on the western side of an eastern state.
Packed tight into a bar in a corn field that looks like a log cabin
where my cousins go every weekend.
Short hair, loud mouths, imposing stares.
yelling at each other, pressing into us.
Belly up to the bar
running hands through my hair,
looking at your short Daly City breed,
Giants baseball cap,
cute, fat, rosy cheeks
a smile with bad, vampire teeth,
I’m bored out of my mind.
Fifty cents on the sidebar.
Name on the chalkboard
Our turn to play the winner.
Smoke fills up the space under the
hanging light above the pool table.
You have stopped paying attention
in order to watch the ball game.
One of the big boys, eyes half shut with drunk,
keeps staring at me.
Brunette desperately looking for a husband
with quick bar banter, and a bad forced laugh,
keeps getting in the way of my stick.
Eight ball, first ball in,
A round of tequila shots;
a country song chorus toast.
Last call, coats on,
out into snow flurries, the pickup truck next to us is weaving.
A whole bottle of wine in my belly,
I’m running through the apartment,
fighting with you from frustration.
Take me to bed.
We’ll sleep in tomorrow and have brunch at the diner.