She asks
Tell me, sad eyes
What would it take to get a dance?

I don’t answer
My silence doesn’t register as an answer
She asks again

I stand, all jeans, boots & empty
Take her hand for a couple trips around the floor
Under neon I barely recognize my reflection in the glass

I’d rather be taking up space at the bar
Listening to that mournful wail
Letting my mind head off on its dark walk

You’re a hell of a dancer
Buy me a beer?
she asks

There’s no calling my mind back
I leave her with a sweating beer & a tip for the bar
Her frown says she gets it


**I was a featured poet at an alumni poetry reading recently. This is one of the handful I read. I’ll post more sometime in the not-so-distant future.


Filed under Poetry, The road

5 responses to “SLIDE GUITAR

  1. I’m looking forward to more…

  2. Bravo. Not sure why but I really like this post. A lot.

  3. I like it because I can picture the scene and smell the bar. It sounds so real. Nice work!

  4. Poetry is one form of expression I do not fully understand. And frankly I am not a fan, in general (due largely in part to the fact that I do not understand it). But this has changed that.

    • Fishingpoet

      A convert! Nice. Thanks for the shout Kirk.
      Christian – my apologies for the bar smell…
      Joe – thanks. And thanks for giving it some love on the RAF site.
      Erin – stay tuned.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s