The Bartender Told me (2)A Poem by NarnieI don't know whether anyone will remember the first one ('my daddy shot a black man from a telegraph pole')... but this is the second and is also a true story.
He’d seen The Guy before - been around a long while back, tall, straight looking, twitch of a smile, came in a couple after 7 every night and every night, whisky after whisky (,after whisky after whisky,) til the bar was wiped clean and he walked out cold sober, again, for one more day he didn’t die.
The Girl was pretty, he’d not seen her before, small, shy looking, a gentle smile, came in with The Guy, who ordered a coke, she ordered a beer, inhaled, corrected herself and The Guy uncorrected her, confirmed the beer.
They sat ~ the table tilted as his knees brushed wood, beer spilled a pool lieing still-frame dead centre, on the varnished oak.
and she wondered if he’d stoop down and lick the table clean, a lizard tongue snapping out, a slow motion slide to lap it up, whipped back with a smack of his lips as he sighs relief, release,
The Guy picked up the beer mat, used the freefall to draw a square, to draw four squares in the square, to place the mat down on their cross, its edges swelling as it soaked up dregs of his life, he explained ~ top right, his family, top left, his work, bottom right, himself, bottom left… Alcoholics Anonymous.
‘And this is you’, he explained as he tapped the mat, moved it up, to the sides and back, slowly, to soak up every corner of his life, being in every part of his day seeing his struggle, accepting him as and who and how, believing in him unconditionally because she had, and will now always, save him.
The Girl’s eyes didn’t blink as her mind rocked through a battle which she’d never win, fait accompli, unless she killed, now, for love for love for a life lived on egg shells, cushioning him from himself while she felt every blow of his own fear, ignoring her dreams of simple contentment.
The Bartender told me that as The Guy kissed her, stood, turned to leave, she held back one step, reached to the table, raised the last of her beer in a private, silent toast to her own resignation and another day she’d died. © 2011 NarnieAuthor's Note
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Added on March 6, 2011Last Updated on March 6, 2011 AuthorNarnieUnited KingdomAboutProud mother to three girls who I have brought up to be respectful, kind and intelligent in their interactions with others. Absolutely fed up with the lack of moderation on this site when I see fr.. more..Writing
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