Peeking Behind Door Number 2
Sluggo said to me
In his erudite way
"F you."
Then he punched my face
Through the wall
Old Joe, the bartender
Laughed
Gave the galoot another
Beer
Compliments of the house
Me, I rearranged my nose
Stuck my pennies
Back in my loafers
Limped across the street
To more comfortable
Confines
Hanging plants and steaming
Cappuccino
With just a hint of cinnamon.
(Previously published in Bulk Head, Vol.1, Issue 2, Fall 2000)
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