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Dull Bar

"sitting on the wrong side of heaven

sitting on the wrong side of hell,

sitting on the wrong side of everything"

 

Two truckers talk miles

weight stations,

and *******

 

as the barmaid coughs up

a sharp,

wet,

smokers laugh,

 

at the racist joke

an old man tells

while he rolls up a cigarette

cracks with wrinkles,

and upsets

 

the heavy middle aged woman

feeding dollars into the slot

of a game machine,

trying to beat her own

high scores.

 

My draft mug sheds frost

into a soggy napkin and

I notice how useless

everything is.

 

The empty pool table

with a warped stick on it,

 

the display of snack food

behind the bar

that look old and dusty

 

The man coming from the bathroom,

coughing as he passes

a twinkling electronic dartboard,

a powered down

Creature from the Black Lagoon

pinball machine,

 

 

and a hi-tech jukebox

that will never be used

because the patrons here

are low-tech with no interest

in the cyber-generation's toys.

 

Too early for happy hour,

too late to go in for work

 

We are all just waiting,

killing time,

trying to remember

or trying to forget,

and hiding from the world,

 

Of course,

we all could be drunks,

losers, the **** that lives

in **** town, but the latter

seems more romantic

and truthful.

Eye of the beholder

I guess.

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Written by
nicolas-huerta
American
Published
May 30, 2013
Lines·Words
55·224
Permission

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