Anywhere, Nebraska

A big old slug of gin will do, a biting wedge of lime,
Some bitter tonic, and the heat's subdued. A snorkel
Drops through humid air to bring the lungs something
To breathe, and, from the porch's newfound shade,
I sip, I sweat, I hear the slow arrival of another train,
It's horn announcing stupidly what anyone could
Hear and see, and feel (should they be deaf or sightless).
The town divides again, its Montagues here on my side,
A block from all the little stores. The Capulets are over
There, behind the train, beside the river, cut off from all
Hope of commerce and of intercourse with randy Romeos,
Like me. I sometimes see a Juliet. I watch her in the bar.
She has a boyfriend, but he seems so stupid as that
Barely moving train. I'll make her mine, one day,
I pledge, and will not stop to count the bodies littering
The stage's floor. A tragedy? More like a farce.
I see poor Paris shake his head, and climb into his
Truck, and leave, as Juliet draws near. I'd like to think
That she's intrigued by me, but she is probably attracted
By those slugs of gin.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 77 times
Written on 2017-06-03 at 00:35

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Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
This is very nicely written. I enjoyed it from beginning to end, and who can resist a gin and tonic on a hot day? Nice one!