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.