Tipping Over

 

My poem “Tipping Over” have been published in the latest edition of UC Irvine’s Faultline. 

 

Tipping Over

When you tear the duct tape
from a barstool cushion
a fermented voice spews
from the cracked foam
wraps his clammy arm
around you. Tells you
of the better days, always
before you were born.

Everyone hates you
for unleashing the voice.
He spills Rolling Rock
in the pool table pockets
drops his cigarette in the urinal
calls the Dodgers a bunch of bums
when they’re up by two runs.

But you can’t help feeling guilty.
Every shot of whiskey poured down
your throat drains into his belly
your bungled jokes stutter
out of his mouth, the punchline
cannot see itself in the mirror.

You wave your hand and he knocks
a shot glass from the ledge.
As the bartender grabs the dustpan
he tries to tango with the broom
reaching for that splintered neck
and tangled blonde hair that can sweep
away the shards he leaves in his path.

 

Image Credit: “Two men drinking at a table, a dog lying at their feet” (Leaman and Lee, photographers) Digital image courtesy of the Getty’s Open Content Program

2 thoughts on “Tipping Over

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