Comments Inbox
| |
About This Poem
Happy Hour
Happy hour
Cheap drinks
Two for one
The regulars line up
For chicken wings
And small talk.
The real drinkers
Look straight ahead
Pretending not to stare
At clouded images
In the mirror
Secretly hoping someone they know
Will come in
Start a conversation
Tell a bad joke
Or do something
To ease the boredom.
The bartender
Talks with the old timers
About this or that
Newspapers opened
To any page
Beer getting flat
While they sit
Passing time
Waiting for the next check
In the mail.
The wait staff
Get ready
For the night
When the place changes
Jukebox on
Loud conversations
Tables are backed up
Kitchen busy
Reservation recommended.
Everyone knows the house rules
The same scene plays
Out every night
When the hour is over
And drinks are more than two for one
The happy crowd melts away
To a place
They'd rather not be.
|
|
|