CIGAR BAR

There is a primal need to talk it out.

And “it” can be all there is, or just

the hops in this new IPA. Or a meeting

of tribal elders in fat chairs under clouds

of smoke from cigars rolled on the

thighs of Cuban virgins.

The confab has its breakout meets,

sports in one corner, politics in the

middle, arts and philosophy at my

table with David and Rob passing

absurdities around like a fresh joint,

alpha males sizing up the competition.

The salesman from Rocky Patel

give me a cigar I could never afford

so I blew clouds to blend with the

Churchills and Padrons of the rich, a

safer pastime than when all this started

in caves with clubs and spears to shake.

My writer’s group met once a month

when friends, poets, and former

students put their pens where their

mouths were in friendly competition

of characters and images as has

been done since Lascaux.

The room would go quiet when some

wealthy youngsters would wander in with

their leggy blonds laughing too loud,

and trying to fit in. We pretend acceptance

because leggy blonds in high heels and

tinkling giggles always have a ticket to ride.

There should be more tribal fraternities

available for folks to pow-wow the

evils of life in modern times, to plan

our defenses against the slings and arrows

flying at us from every side, and because

tribal is primal and good for the soul.

Reviews

[Stu. T.H.]

Your work is, to me, quite scary indeed. I've not met any other poets besides myself in a bar (or anywhere else), where we can talk fluently about our identities and share our works. Frankly, the dictates for comfortable norms of current socialist life disgust me deeply, and poetry is my way-out ticket to ride to personal pleasure and to visit the tender feelings I have shielded from modern colonists -- The socialists, those are influencers or youngsters with fingers in their heads -- They are such crude fellows that I will personally take measures not to engage with them. However, I do favour much the thought of a place where players of verses and tellers of tales can go checking in with their fellowmen and writers, so I'll absorb that greatly to my desires and leave it on my wall of pleasant ideas for a headspace.
That being said, I doubt I am old enough to smoke a cigar or join a bar ... Regardless, a very entertaining work you shared, author Vol.

[Vol]

Stu,
Where do you live?
Vol

[Stu. T.H.]

Ah, here and there, but right now in America. And my location is rather mobile, I changed house twice this year, so I'm rather uncertain about how to give a definite answer.

[Vol]

Oh, and to use the best their terms, fellow travelers...

[Chris Shaw]

Far better to pow wow than be out with the pack causing mayhem. I believe there should be far more talking, particularly when it comes to preventing conflict. Your poem Vol, is full of humour and reminds me so much of the lads down at the local. Except they ain’t lads any more. They are full of it and the more they drink, the better they think (well that’s their take on it). Love listening to their banter from the far corner on how they are going to solve the disorder on our planet. And watch their faces, when the blondes strut their stuff and roll up to the bar lol.

Chris

[Vol]

Chris,
I'm so happy you get it... At this time in history when the west is on the decline, and our historical preeminence has left so many wounded, so many destroyed, we need a place to figure it out while we wait. When I was teaching, if I made all the way to Friday, I deserved a reward, so good beer and friendship in a place where conversation was the whole point, craft beer and tobacco lubricated our minds and mouths... It was not about one-upmanship, everyone was a well-educated, Alpha,
and if the powers that be wanted help we were and still are a neglected resource.

[AYVID N]

Very interesting, the game of one upmanship on these alpha groups. It's not a place for delicate egos. Yet you put it all together in such a humorous and entertaining way. Loved it Vol.

[Vol]

Divya,
Milady, except for the sports folks, there really wasn't a lot of competition between the regulars at Stogies. A better description would be 'leaders". Nor was there rampant testosterone. Most of the men were happily married, highly educated businessmen who knew a lot about the arts as well as finance, one even ran the Nashville Ballet. Conversation was always high-level and I recall no arguments, but intensely interesting thoughts and commentary about life, the universe and everything prevailed. I miss those guys and those days, and the selection of very high quality beer.
Vol

[Lorry]

I wonder Vol what society would have adapted into if blondes, leggy or otherwise were told we no longer choose partners with our eyes, but our other senses so we truly get to know people for who they truly are and have to learn other things than sticking their vidudeums out in every picture in the general direction of your thirungulator.
Maybe we'd all just stop going out and slowly lose the fakeness of our reality when we realise that we are being judged too, on things we don't understand and fear in equal measure.
We'd all just end up the same gibbering idiots making the same mistakes over and over.
If you require further proof, please watch the movie idiocracy and then decide if we'd be better or worse off.
The bit where they are so disappointed mountain dew didn't grow their crops was hilarious! 😊

[Vol]

Lorry,
1. vidudeums are delicious
2. thirungulator… Hahaha laughing like a prepubescent, acned nerd.
3. There are many who think that the change you suggest would cause the universe top collapse into itself and be replaced by something even more bizarre. Others, like myself, believe this has already happened.
Vol