down between the big blue dumpster
and the indian tobacco shop on fourth
resides a runny-eyed
raven-haired pavement beauty
a malnourished force of nature
with a mama lion's attitude
they call christina/chrissy/chris

they say that chrissy was once
a flawless foothills bride
teaching backstroke at the y
wearing designer glasses in yoga classes
filling blue shopping baskets
with fresh fennel, salmon and brie
for a shiny suburban family of four

now chrissy talks quite civilly to demons
demanding change from sun-blocked tourists
with feral anger in her eyes
in fraying colorful clothes
and most inappropriate footwear
she swears at people who ignore her
more loudly at people who don't

chrissy's shown me her tortoise compact
shown me the scar along her spine
and once while sharing tia maria
and laughing at mr. bean on the bar tv
she revealed the breathtaking reasons
that brought her here
to this barstool beside mine

chrissy never asked for cocktails
she knew i'd buy them for her company
shamelessly filching bar change quarters
for pepperonis and salt and vinegar chips
and always eight quarters for the juke
turn it up bartender if you please
annie lennox (E17) only and always

I said I'll see you valentine's day my lovely
we'll drink cinnamon schnapps
and laugh at the frying rubes on the patio
she accepted my proposal with a rare smile
and proffered a crinkly polaroid photo
of herself and two tiny blonde girls
if not could you please remember me by this


it's been eight months since i've seen chrissy
some say her sister took her back to Bakersfield
while others hint at more unsavory scenarios
i have my own quiet theories none of which i'll share
her secrets once shared are safe with me
all i know for sure on this sad barstool
is no one here dares play E17

08/31/2007

Posted on 09/01/2007
Copyright © 2025 Terry Olynik