this place is a metronome,
a paradox of generations that gather
through clouds of nicotine,
and floods of alcohol,
where conversation occurs
over a red plaid carpet,
with smoke gathering beneath light bulbs
and frankie goes to hollywood.

relax.

there's a rumor that one of the elderly men at the bar
has offered up this pearl of wisdom,
he says with quotable conviction that he wants to join the olympics,
as a "synchronized shrugger,"
dumbfounded, we raise our shoulders and sip our beers.

what we hold onto in such a bar room rendezvous,
in these moments of clouded judgement, we find something universal,
while they hold on to frank sinatra, cadillacs, and all that jazz,
we cling to less iconic fixtures and lose ourselves in conversations
about sex pistols, parachute pants, and famed graffiti artists of the twentieth century.

01/14/2006

Posted on 01/14/2006
Copyright © 2024 Frankie Sanchez