Pool at: Bram’s Bar
((A Donkeyland Poem) (Late: 1960s)
It was twenty-five cents a game of pool at Bram’s
A corner bar, the whole
gang, patronized, during the late 1960s—
In the summers the side fans
pushed out the spiraling smoke;
In the winters, we’d all
choke.
Hooded lights over the bar,
— bright lights over the pool table;
It reeked with barleycorn
and saggy nicotine and tar!
You’d drink a beer, look at
the nearby clock—
Tell the mind, ‘Just one
more! Then out the door!’
But when the mind talked back,
it insisted on more!
Across from the bar, a pool
table stood, and
There was always someone
with a cue—
Calking its blue tip, bored
blue! Or playing so.
Then broke the balls,
scratched; some even run the table,
Some missed the easiest of
shots!—
And in-between shots, we all
studied what we’d do,
If we had the cue.
Written 6-3-2014 (No: 4358)
For Mike Siluk, Larry
Lund, Big Ace & Doug
