They breed big boys here,
on the western side of an eastern state,
where my cousins go every weekend.
It's out in a field and looks a bit like a log cabin.
Short hair, loud mouths, imposing stares.
imposing words,
yelling at each other, pressing into us.
Belly up to the bar
running hands through my hair,
looking at your short Daly City breed,
Giants baseball cap,
cute, fat, rosy cheeks
a smile with bad, vampire teeth,
You love meso.
I'm bored out of my mind.
Quarter table
Fifty cents on the sidebar.
Name on the chalkboard
Our turn to play the winner.
Smoke fills up the space under the
hanging light above the pool table.
You've stopped paying attention
in order to watch the ball game.
One of the big boys, eyes half shut with drunk,
keeps staring at me.
Brunette desperately looking for a husband
with quick bar banter, and a bad forced laugh,
keeps getting in the way of my stick.
Eight ball, first ball in,
I lose.
Last call, coats on,
my cousins' friend is weaving down the road in his pick-up.
Running naked through the apartment,
crystals from my ears,
a whole bottle of wine in my belly.
Fighting from frustration.
Take me to bed and we'll sleep in tomorrow.
