The Greenfelt Jungle

The pool hall was dimly lit smelling of cigarettes and money the regulars sitting around telling their stale jokes which none of them are funny. over the next twenty-four hours the jungle will have many stories to tell some will be about great shots others about wife's giving them hell. I saw pictures of famous players hanging slightly crooked on a wall near the back stuck in a cheap frame and frozen in time was a 5 by 10 glossy of Minnesota fats. He was wearing a pinstripe suit along with his trademark rose he's pictured with a handful of hundreds from an unknowing sucker i suppose. As closing time nears tables get brushed and floors get cleaned the attendant hangs up the pool sticks and unplugs a noisy pinball machine but in the wee hours of the morning after everyone has left the attendant practices...he's getting better wanting to be the best but for now things remain neutral in the land of felt and money the regulars will check in around nine and the hustlers looking to make easy money.