another day putting in a full shift at the bar
starts with a blinding sun as I walk in
now unaware it is the dark of night
making it futile to pretend I have things to do
places to go and people to meet
the bartender knows I have nothing else to fill my day
other than writing illegible poems on napkins
thinking I'm a writer when the alcohol kicks in
then being my own critic when the pain of reality arrives
"You poor useless bastard. You dreamer.
Who gives a rats ass about your poetry?"
the peace of self mutilation is broken
by a semi-toothless motorcycle tough
playing to a table of his semi-literate friends:
"Hey asshole. My friends and I want to know
why you have sunglasses on in a bar?"
In less than a moment's time I examine my options.
Should I tell him I forgot to take off my sunglasses?
Ignore him?
Sucker punch him and run like hell?
then it comes to me
much faster than anything written on the napkins
the words roll out of my mouth
dripping with a feigned honesty that
will hurt more than any punch
" I have to wear dark glasses. I'm going blind."
the tough guy look turns ashen as he backs up
while apologizing, " I'm sorry. I don't know why
I said such a stupid thing."
I do not want the dumb fuck to get off that easily
so I repeat my lie to his biker friends
who buy me drinks the rest of the night
and
I am sure never ask a man why he has
sunglasses on again.