boarding
with a pause and one last grounded
step of old
before the waves of a salted and colorfully
seasoned
blue
and
green sea.
Comfortable
First Beer
Big feel, small town bar,
a pizza joint for home.
First beer empty slow with
the one-a-day cigarettes,
dipped in lipstick and crushed into foil ashtrays.
Music of the cheap greasy speakers
a temporary favorite,
unwinding ever so softly and muffled
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into
table-top fries and salt on napkins.
Bar lying ties and flannel sleeves absorb
the touchdown condensation from
tipped and picked up glasses,
and ice on the bottom of frozen mugs floats to
the
top
within the first five minutes of pouring a draught,
like the pouring people,
a simple 5:30 crew of easy nail biters
that dread the sneaky time for leaving.
Hand
to Hand
Drawing tones carry them close to the same
space.
A lack of sureness compels what ensues:
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