A blur of humanity at happy
hour with all the haggard
faces like lottery balls
bouncing in a hot air
popcorn machine till
a handful of winners
come through the victory
chute and into focus,
but winners round here,
in this bar a block down
from a poultry killing
plant and a chop shop,
rarer than a flat iron steak
done up by a junkie chef
hot to hit the bricks
for a fix by midnight.
A happy hour don’t reap
dividends till your mind’s
Maytagging with still enough
bucks in the wallet for cheese
burgers at a greasy spoon.
The hours multiplying till
emotions get all cross eyed ,
crashing in your car rather
than having the car crash
with your sorry ass inside,
the sun slicing through eyelids
as you do the math figuring
how long till the waves of shit
can’t wait for porcelain no more,
ready to blow through navy blue
Dickies and vinyl upholstery.
Tony Pena was selected as 2017-2018 Poet Laureate for the city of Beacon, New York.
A new volume of poetry and flash fiction, "Blood and Beats and Rock n Roll," is available now at Amazon.
He also has a self published chapbook, "Opening night in Gehenna."
His publication credits include “Chronogram,” "Dogzplot," "Gutter Eloquence," “Hudson Valley Transmitter,” "Red Fez," "Slipstream," "Underground Voices," "Zygote in my Coffee," and others.
Colorful compositions and caterwauling with a couple of chords can be seen at:
%20(1).jpeg)
No comments:
Post a Comment