an old one but a favorite.
someone once wanted to buy it from me.she was being kind.
i sold her another.
this, is mine.
pool night 1996
i sit quiet in the corner
just a bit of darker shadow
turned sideways from the light
coming yellow down on the
one decent pool table.
watching you laugh, drinking
with the rest. you stroke your stick
i can see you like the feel
of it's smooth wood
familiar to your fingers.
me, i'm thinking
i wanna be the pool table, soft
worn felt you're leaning across,
want you to be that stick.
the shot, as you stroke.
wanna be the corner pocket.
i swallow hard when you
tilt your coors up and
drink deep. i need to be your thirst.
shifting my weight a bit on my seat
i think about you
being that bar stool.
i would be the smokey air that
you suck in before the click of
the balls hitting. hell
i'd settle for being the cigarette
between your lips.
2 a.m. by the grimy neon clock
behind the bar, another pool night done.
you won a few of your games, i
haven't played at all.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
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4 comments:
OK then!
I feel like a cigarette now...
thanks.
That was... invigorating...
that's a very nice way of putting it. : )
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