I am not supposed to be here.
Sleep does not come easy.
By 11:35 I give in.
Arthritic walk limping
three blocks to the bar,
I arrive and order an IPA pint
hoping it will dull the pain
and promote drowsiness.
As I finish the last swallow,
the bartender brings me another pint
paid for by the wily woman
smiling at the end of the bar.
I wave in appreciation
as my eyes try to discern
any semblance of recognition.
There is an empty seat next to her.
I am not supposed to be here.
R. Gerry Fabian is a published poet and novelist. He has published
four books of his published poems, Parallels, Coming Out Of The Atlantic, Electronic Forecasts and Wildflower Women as well as his poetry baseball book, Ball On The Mound.
Nice memory Gerry! When was it, about 1967?
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