Hardees, Monday Evening In December
I can hear them talking
their voices rising up
from the kitchen
the place is nearly empty
just me and another guy sleeping
in the booth near the back wall
I just want to finish my coffee
before heading for home
and I hear the waitress asking
what’s it called when two people
have been married less than
six months and they want
to split up but don’t want
to get a divorce but
nobody answers her and
all the time I’m thinking
annulment
it’s called an annulment
and why the hell won’t
somebody answer her
but no one ever does and
I wait for her to ask again
but she just lets the conversation
drift into something else and
I hear the other guy mumbling
something in his sleep before I
throw my cup away and leave
________________________
Last Night’s Dream
I went to the zoo and
after paying for my ticket
saw the sign that said
something about 32 ounce beers but
I had to go across the street
there was something I needed
and it was across the street
I wondered if the ticket
I just purchased
would still be good if
I left and came back
I walked out onto the sidewalk
where I saw the heavy traffic
between my side of the street
and the other side of the street
there wasn’t any place for
pedestrians to cross
I stood there
on my side of the street
watching the traffic for a long time
waiting for it to thin-out
enough for me to cross
but it never did so
I went back to the zoo where
the sign said something about
32 ounce beers and noticed
the words ice-cold at the bottom
I wanted to get one but
there was nobody around
in the distance
the lion started bellowing
such a sad and lonesome sound
James Babbs is not a real writer but he plays one on TV. He works for the government but doesn’t like to talk about it. He likes getting drunk and writing. His poetry collection, Dictionary of Chaos, is available from http://www.xlibris.com and his chapbook, Another Beautiful Night can be found at http://www.lulu.com.
I like his poetry. Tell him so.
well done. well done.
p.s. well done.