AT ART’S BAR by Dan O’Connell

Names have been changed
to protect the drunks.

When old Mary had a seizure
at the bar last night –
spasmed off the stool,
whole wrinkled body flopping
on the Jimmy-mopped floor
like a caught flounder

it made us all remember
other times we needed to summon
an ambulance

Carlos J.’s invisible slip
into drunken exhaustion on his 75th –
fell straight back to fracture his skull
as we sang happy birthday
happy birthday to you

Bobby’s kid Bobby2 not yet
learned to hold his liquor –
broke both kneecaps dancing,
caprioling off a booth

June’s heart attack right there
(husband points to June’s favorite chair)
though she was only 54
and ordering one more

The list went on and on
almost to slapstick
as Big Mike cradled Mary
in his drummer’s arms

and Johnny O’Brien
recently diagnosed with cirrhosis
drank silently, listening for the sirens

 

 

 

Dan O’Connell is a four-time award winning poet, and multiple finalist and honorable mention. His poems have appeared over eighty times, including in Mississippi Review, Prometheus Dreaming, Homestead Review, America Magazine, Ghost Town Literary Magazine, and previously in The Rye Whiskey Review. He is the author of two full-length collections of poetry, Different Coasts, and Theory of Salvation, and the chapbook State of the Union. Find Dan O. at danoconnellpoetry.com