Sunday, December 6, 2015

Ryan Hardgrove- A Poem

 Tomorrow, the sun will set also

phew, it must be early
says ol’ Pat the bum
5:30 I say
without looking up from Dostoevsky
he lets out one of his
old man “I’ve seen a lot” slow whistles
oh well, I’ve been drinking all day
he says
his eyes are opaque marbles
spent and tired, but not yet deflated
I’ve seen deflated eyes
and they are awful

he asks how I’m doing
at least half a dozen times
he’s begging for a conversation
so I give him some words
banal commonplace words
and he eats them up
he doesn’t want anything too serious
he’s not here to soul search
but the bar is too slow for him
to maintain focus on anything
so he lifts out of his stool
and slides towards the failing light
of November dusk
he is at the peak of the day’s booze consumption
he actually feels good
for a small window of about
two hours

tonight he’ll spend them
out on the sidewalk
staring up at the blank
dark gray urban sky
amidst curbside litter
as headlights crawl up and down
his old weathered face
and suddenly
the day disappears
as it does every day
leaving us all
in the dark
until morning

Ryan Hardgrove is a gardener, a human, a liar, and a father.  He continues to write despite all the bullshit that stacks up around him.  He lives in Pittsburgh, PA with his common law wife and their son.

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