Suit in the corner,
Tie loosened off some,
Folding his papers,
Turns around, announces:
“Looks like it’s
Going to rain.”
Sole-thin
Cowboy boots,
Balanced on the
Edge of a bar-stool
Looks into his
Amber glass.
“Ain’t likely
This time o’ year.”
Slow, drink-studied drawl.
Seen-better blonde,
Behind the counter,
Been wipin’ the same
Shot-glass for thirty minutes
Is thinking -but quietly –
“In my neighbourhood, boys,
It’s been raining for years.”
22/7/2013