his voice crackles, cackling
as the drunken jokes get worse
the grizzle-chin fisherman
wobbling next to me
slaps the bar top
his wedding band tap-tapping
well off the music’s beat
eyeing the bottle-blonde barkeep
as he sings along
with Jim the hippie
“Back Door Man”, playing on the jukebox
tho, I doubt
this grizzle-chin fisherman
has ever been
a back door man
back door men
oil the squeaky hinges
those asked to return
balance passion
with compassion
a balance–
not oft understood
or, at least, one might have
a bit of rhythm
still, the golden ring
keeps on tapping
well off beat
and Jim the hippie
keeps on singing
his back
turned
to the crowd
my poems are posted for whomever might need to read them, hoping they find a home within a heart. Gnite wordpress people.
☺
Goodnight, Eric. I like when you drink. 😉
Lol. I think I do too. Gnite Vic 🙂
Superb flow…’and Jim the hippie keeps on singing,’ perfect. I don’t doubt for one minute that your work finds a home in many hearts across the lands.
“those asked to return
balance passion
with compassion”
Love this idea; so finely observed …
Thanks for posting poems for those who need them
🙂
I’m liking these features. I like revisiting 🙂
Thanks, Steph 🙂 I’m guessing this was a featured post.. Those are random, designed to spotlight some older stuff that gets buried quickly otherwise.