Barry’s Lounge, Mendon, MA (fragment)

in this bar
a man trying to sell his old windows matters
as much as the Marine trading stories with the Portuguese roofer
as much as the dumbass longhair sucking down Jack Daniels in silence
as much as the would be blues bar owner flashing green
as much as the Memphis -Akron game on all the TVs
as much as the dark outside and the rain
the cigarettes that barely stay lit
the American Flag
against the back mirror

(Note: I think i’m about to create a whole series of poems based on the dive bars of the Blackstone Valley. Think i can get a grant for research?)