*The TV Over the Bar

*A seond of the 5 poems published this week in The Awakenings Review, Volue 10, Number 1.

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It’s raining when I duck into Freddie’s,

and I’m met with my nightmare theme: above the bar,

above the bottles of bourbon, brandy,

and beer,

the television is talking about some tragedy, terrible,

another shooting scene.

“Turn it up, Joe,” booms a voice to the bartender.

I’ve lived this nightmare before, but can’t do anything

but stop.

I hear the news, another mass shooter, but I don’t listen to

where or how many died this time,

all I’m thinking as they continue to talk is that

someone somewhere watches,

and while he waits he picks his place,

and soon he’ll strike, and

when he does the news will say

the who, the how, the what,

they’ll keep score of how many died, and how many

walked away. And just like before and just like now, it’ll be broadcast

on the news, right here above this bar.

And for awhile we’ll grumble, and for awhile

we’ll b***h, but Joni won’t ever be back.

Already I hear clinking of glasses and rattling bottles of beer,

while the volume of conversation is increasing, drowning in

the mundane the talk of murder coming from above the bar.

But some sorrows can’t be drowned. I can attest to that. I turn around

and step outside where rain melts tears.

I hail a cab.

Reviews

[Betty Hermelee]

Unfortunately, these killings of innocents is becoming just an ordinary event, something that we have no more tears for; and it’s on every TV set in every bar and in every living room….it’s like” oh another school shooting! How horrible! And that it until the next one…
Best
B.

[W. Barrett Munn]

Something is fundamentally broken in this country.
Thanks, Betty.

Winston

[Betty Hermelee]

Indeed it is, and it could be getting worse...
You're welcome W.
Best, B