The Greenfelt Jungle
The pool hall was dimly lit
smelling of cigarettes and money
the regulars sitting around telling jokes
which none of them are ever 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
Walking towards the far end of the pool room
you could see 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
So, 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 some easy money.
Copyright © Kurt Kohls | Year Posted 2018
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