except when he sipped his whiskey
he was working on his third since he’d sat
beside me at the bar; I was feeling like a piker
still nursing my first; I finished it
ordered a second and maybe spurred his speaking
not exactly to me if you know the manner
but I was the only one listening
and our eyes met in the mirror
“I hardly recognize him,” he said
“where is that kid who graduated?
and could hardly wait to get in here
where surely they stored all the secrets
of manliness,” he grunted and sipped
“where is the young man full of drive and vigor?
full of laughs and energy, sure the next girl
would dance him out of his boots
without wanting anything more than fun
where is the quiet man, happy with a wife and home?
and happy to come in here now and then
to see young men and boys still playing the game”
he shook his head and our eyes met again
he grinned, “you prob’ly have your own memories
your own questions, why else would you be here?”
he sipped again and ordered his fourth
“you sure you need another?” gentled the barkeep
the man smiled wryly, “please, it’ll be my last
tonight, I mean, you know I make no trouble”
the barkeep shrugged and poured another one
the man glanced sideways at me, then communed
once again with his reflection
“where did all those wrinkles come from?
did my skull shrink inside my skin?
was that when I quit taking chances, quit
daring the world to give me another breath?
did I shrink then so my skin fits loosely now?
if I stepped out of it now, is there a place
would iron it smooth again and help me
step back in? would I find whatever sass
there was that drove the boy and young man?
and even lasted somewhat into the man?
oh gods, I’m talking like an old drunk now!
thank you for listening like a friend”
he stood and waited for his balance
then walked carefully steadily to the door
waved back at the barkeep and me
and walked out with his questions
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