His name was Diamond

What’s-his-name?

 

He’d make me paper tulips

every night at the Billiard Inn,

Giving them to all the pretty girls

who paid no attention to him.

 

I have long forgotten his name,

Although, I swear,

it remains on the tip of my tongue,

 

I do remember

he was from Wisconsin

he didn’t fit in

and we’d make fun of his

canary yellow duly pick-up truck

The way he clung onto us

because we were too cool

to touch, too loose to catch

 

We were all too important,

keeping the barstools warm

pool cues chalked,

smacking the balls into corner pockets,

until someone scratched,

 

Sipping beers, vying for the bartender’s

attention, slipping into the unoccupied

booths to do a line,

 

I have tried for three days to remember

his name now and the ones who would remember

 

have probably long forgotten mine.

 

Reviews

[Jennifer Marie Theresa ..]

I love the imagery in this piece, you can picture the character standing there noticing everything around him.

[Ed Hart]

they've got diamonds on the souls of their shoes....