This grizzled blob at the bar
overhears me say to Lily
the Bartender that people who don’t tip
should have their eyeballs gouged out.
I don’t mean to sound nasty,
just state a fact. Grizzled
leaves his stool and stands as close as
a salt shaker to a napkin holder,
asks am I a socialist? I say maybe,
what does he mean? He blares--
a movie played too loud,
a maestro building to a crescendo,
adds “And I just know you’re
a lesbian.” He spits that out
like chewing tobacco. Lily
tells him to scram… or else.
He throws a ten at her and goes.
I think: he could easily turn me
into a Daily Press story,
something hunters read when
they’re done for the day or
my neighbors turn into gossip
that snows them in just
when the heater dies.
Kenneth Pobo’s book Glass Garden came out in 2008 from WordTech Press. His new chapbook, Tea on Burning Glass, is forthcoming from Tandava Poetry Press. He teaches Creative Writing and English at Widener University.
*/?>
