Sunday, February 15, 2015

Alan Catlin- Three Poems

A Double Vodka Martian

 I'd seen her around quite
 a bit before.  She was
 a washed out mouse colored
 blonde you might see in
 a peep show on 42nd St.
 strung out on drugs getting
 a piece of whatever the winos
 and the perverts stuck in
 the pay for view slot outside
 her booth.  She came up
 to me and gave this look
 which was supposed to be
 suggestive and sd.,
 "I've had my eye on you
 for awhile, I'll give you
 a blow job in exchange
 for a double Vodka Martini."
 "I'd rather give you the
 five bucks."
 "Are you serious?"
 "Would I lie to you?"
 "You're the first bartender
 I know, who's ever turned me down."
 "It may come as a surprise
 to you but all bartenders
 aren't total crap heads."
 "Not the ones I've met."
 I was amazed, watching her
 chug the double Martian,
 I'd never seen anyone do
 that before and live.
 "Thanks, sweetie," She said,
 "I'll see you around."
 I hope that didn't mean
 I was going to have to
 identify the body.

 Just Another Saturday Afternoon in Schenectady

 I thought maybe he had
 won the Lottery or else his
 friend had scored a near
 impossible Tri‑Fecta
 at Saratoga the way he
 was carrying on.
 I sort of thought,
 he might actually be
 talking to someone in this
 dimension, after all he
 was making this great big
 verbal deal out of something
 in the middle of the sidewalk.              
 It wasn't like he was one
 of those hasn't washed in years
 wino with a flask of Wild Irish Rose
 stuffed into all of his
 remaining pockets. He was
 a well dressed black man
 somewhere in his sixties
 and he looked well cared for.
 As I came nearer to him,
 I could see he was carrying on
 with his image in the glass
 of a Jay Street Tavern.
 Life as we were supposed
 to know it had stopped for him
 and had become contained
 by reflective glass. I saw
 his double in another world,
 mute, gesturing, saying things
 to us no one could ever understand.

Last Night on the Town

 The one who was
 going to die this
 night was propped
 against the bar
 by an artificial
 light. It was strange
 watching that light
 show, especially since
 he was buying all
 the losers drinks,
 leading a show which
 would end up a black    
 suit affair; not that
 any of these guys
 knew what a suit was.
 Most bar guys would be
 bummed when he went
 but I wasn't; I'd
 been called Dr. Death
 before, these things
 always seem to happen
 on my shift & after
 awhile you almost
 get used to it.
 I thought I was nice
 person once upon
 a time, but looking
 into the eyes of dead
 people does things to
 you, I’m warped now,
broken and nothing is
going to change that.

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