Bartender’s Views

A shock of black hair combed back, thick, a bit oily.
Heavy in the shoulders and chest, widening waist.
The kinda fella always looks like he’s about
Two minutes away from wearing a turtleneck.

But born with a deformity, guess ya could say—
Deep pockets and arms a bit short to reach in ’em.
Guess he played football in high school, ’cause to this day
When change hits the bar? He takes every quarter back.

 

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
This entry was posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Capitalism, Charlottetown, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie Poetry, Language, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Poverty, Quatrains, Social Commentary and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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