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guy scutellaro
Poems
7d
...Tales from the Maloney Bar
on a Friday night
no matter where you started out
you always ended up
for last call and
the unexpected was expected
you might find a line
on the women's room sink,
the bartender dancing on the bar
tequila in mouth
a lit match
then spitting flame
maybe
some guy pulls a knife
so the other guy shows a gun
satori's abound
beach day in January
300 pounds of sand
and a sand castle contest
crazy George swings
from the wooden wagon wheel
light fixture
and the lights flicker off and on
and the desperate and the dying
lost in want
appear and disappear
pop in and out of existence
dead
then alive
dead
then alive...
our cards are spread
and the joker card smiles
no search for meaning here,
the ****** return the dealt card's smile
we are the wolves and the lambs
no saints here
and no matter how you acted or what
you did or owned
who you hated or loved
no one was ever was bored
so alive for the fleeting moments
of Last Call
a random freedom of sorts
seen in a wink of an eye, heard in a sigh
the kind of freedom
you only experience
once in a lifetime
folie a' plusieurs.
folie a plusieurs, a madness shared...
Written by
guy scutellaro
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144
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