Summer nights at Dick’s Bar with the tall

upright industrial fans

 

blowing the heat around sounding muffled

but loud like a prop plane idling

 

in a distant airport hangar and the ballgame

barely audible on the cheap radio

 

and we waited forever to get a beer

when the Tigers were batting

 

discussing the pushback of the revolution

the delay of dreams.

 

We made conversation in close lips to ears

until the game broadcast

 

was over and clicked off and the fan motors

were snapped off

 

together in the same instant freeing one

lone human voice to ring

 

out clear and loud in the barroom

as if amplified

 

“all packed in there asshole to elbow

and the pigs….”

 

a slice of a complete thought hanging

in Dick’s Bar

 

dangling in time in a silent way waiting

for a new beginning.

 

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About Mark James Andrews


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Mark James Andrews is finding optimism in uncertainty. He has work forthcoming in Chiron Review, Third Wednesday and a couple other hot spots.
1 comments
Discussion
   1 week ago
Dick was a Buddhist-nicely done looking forward to some more

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