The Bartender

I wrote this poem for a creative writing class this week. It was paired with the image below, taken by one Ralph Hickman in September of 2017. Interpret it as you like.

The Bartender

Today’s a very special day

You can drink your heart away

To speak with eloquence

Is to waste your fucking time

It’s sublime

When your mind

Rolls behind your eyes

Oh wait I think I mixed that up

Have I had too much to drink?

She’s moving back and forth

A force tied to the Earth

She knows these drinks

Like the back of her hand

While my mind moves in quicksand

It stands to belief

She’s not just the relief

She’s the engine

Of the goddamn car

I suppose

That all their heart’s in repose

Are in response to her

Serving the drinks

In the way that suits her

They’re amazed

By all her tossing and shaking

Making drinks

In a way you never seen before

She’s like an angel

Angelo di alcool

Yelling to her boss about

Some kinda school

That’s she’s saving for

While still taking orders for drinks

Give her a

Sainthood, no,

Give her checks in ink

But as these men crowd her,

Her mind starts to doubt her.

She’s not one for crowds or,

What might happen after

She starts shouting louder

To mother and father

And begging to save her

From these walking disasters

In

Out

In

Out

That mem’ry replays

Her mind goes ablaze

With images

Of what he did

And how he did it

She runs to the kitchen

With tears in her eyes

They wouldn’t listen to her then

And they can’t hear her now

I sip my small drink

What could I do?

I’m not allowed back there

And neither are you

It’s a lot like that poem

That you’ll hear from your boo

Roses are red

And trauma never goes away.

Go figure.