Shooting pool down at Happy’s
two drunks cuss fighting
three tables down
Happy steps in with his pig face
and thick glasses
gives one a shove, and they stop
I take a swallow of beer
Iine up my shot
it falls in the side pocket
we’re wired, on edge, looking for hams
two potentials walk in
we start up the small talk
invite them to join us
we play teams and lose
smoke weed in the alley
drop a line of bullshit,
see if it sticks
in the small trailer park, six miles out
their money tucked in my jeans
they run behind shrinking taillights,
our well-practiced hustle left them chasing the car
I laugh
light a cigarette, blow out the smoke
we turn the corner
disappear.
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I am most happy when trying to create something of interest when writing. I started writing in my 50’s and have a few pieces published in Medusa’s Kitchen.
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