DRINKING WITH POETS by M.J. Arcangelini

Frank Stanford and Everette Maddox

swap stories in a delta back alley bar,

which closed up shop decades ago.

The waitress is a skeleton named Edna

whose joints have been screwed together

and squeak ever so slightly when

she places their drinks before them.

The poets sip bourbon and absinth.

Their words thrust and parry, weave

and diverge, trying to outdo each other, to

make each mundane moment magnificent.

The table calls to Edna to bring paper

and pens to catch the poems condensing

on top of it as the two poets’ words collide.

Edna’s apron, hangs loose around her hips,

there is a hole in the tips pocket.

The infant in the corner fusses and wails

for attention but remains ignored, the 

poetry in the air does nothing to nourish him.

It doesn’t matter that I haven’t had a drink

in over 30 years, I am drunk just being there.

Then, Lew Welch wanders in, brushing

leaves and twigs from his hair, he sits down

and another round must be ordered.

M.J.  Arcangelini, born in Pennsylvania in 1952, has resided in northern California since 1979. He has published in little magazines, online journals, & over a dozen anthologies.  He is the author of 6 published collections, the most recent of which is PAWNING MY SINS, 2022 (Luchador Press).