Gin Mills
Become a
Premium Member
and post notes and photos about your poem like John Lawless.
They are mostly gone now....Men's Taverns...aka Gin Mills
GIN MILLS
Battered pay phones
hung on the walls
their rings
harsh reminders.
They sat,
ageing men,
hunched
on barstools
brooding faces
glaring into
sullen evidence
of reflected disdain.
Younger men stood
milling about
regaling each other
with exaggerated misdeeds.
The old payphone’s ring
coldly calling those
who were never there.
There was no “top” shelf,
only hard whiskey
for softened men.
Bent backs,
gnarled hands,
empty eyes,
lost in a liquored
loneliness.
Draft beer,
pickled eggs,
Slim Jims,
that damn phone
forever ringing
as they watched
the seasons change
through the dirty window
of death’s waiting room.
John G. Lawless
©5/14/2017
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment