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.