Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

the bartender gets more patients
than any shrink could ever dream of &
the ability to stay with them through bouts of 
loneliness, guilt, extreme sadnesses & self-destruction,
make her/him more worthy of an APA award at the very least---
the bartender is a legal dealer 
who supplies the addicted with their drug of choice
but who also holds the power to cut them off &
throw them out---
a curious position to be in, 
her/his own problems must be left at the door or 
behind the counter,
strolling in round 4 pm for another night until the wee hours
being the biggest, lowest priced 
listening ear in the city.

bartenders have a thousand reasons for doing what they do,
for ending up where they are or 
for using bartending as a venue to something else,
always quoting like waiters & waitresses in NYC,
“this is just what i do for money,”
insisting to the onlooker that there is a light at the end of
the tunnel---
but the bartender takes it all home,
much like a shrink, again,
they know all the stories &
instead of seeing people get better,
they see them get worse---
some may even get the opportunity to see someone drink themselves to death &
how that sits with the bartender
is only the business of the bartender---
at the end of the day,
if you work at a joint with live music,
ya get to hear some good stuff for free (along with the bad) &
if you work at a place with live comedy,
sometimes you can get free laughs throughout the evening---
if you’re lucky.

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