Laurence Overmire - One More Pack

Smoking in a dark bar
Saroyan and me
Bottle half-empty, couldn’t be
half-full.

The poetry of sad illusion
Finds its home in seedy joints,
The half-opened eyes of
Tight-bloused girls
High heels and lipstick
Skirts taunting above the knee,
The jiving beat of a jukebox
Playing oldies,
Pool sticks cracking cues
Solid to stripe behind the black.

Bartender pours another
Shot.

Inhale…Exhale…
There’s something cool about the rhythm
The track of breath from lip to lung
Makes us think, hidden in shadow
Somehow we’ve got a chance.


(Previously published in American Muse, Summer '01, Issue 3)

Laurence Overmire

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-more-pack/