THE FOLKS AT THE BAR

    ( I started writing this poem at a small Jazz club in Andersonville called The Green Mill a few hours before I performed in my first poetry slam. It was exciting because the Green Mill is credited for founding the poetry slam some many years ago. )


THE FOLKS AT THE BAR
I was sitting at a local BAR not too FAR from here actually. And I leaned forward to get the attention of the tender behind the bar back's back  When behind my back as I turned my head was a little frog and he was red.  And he was always there but i was unaware.  And he pulled from under me my stool and sat.

But I was cool with that cuz I like frogs. And I like the color red. So I said whatap man, what's your story entail, from where do you hail. And he showed his hand to me. Not my question but I guess the little guy was three.  I said, did u know that was my seat...  He just smiled and bobbed to the beat.  It became clear who was in charge.  though tiny and red, this frog's pressence was large.

So I pulled up a chair. I brushed through my hair. Starting scratching my neck and thought what the heck. Why not be friends with this little guy. There's no reason why we can't respect Each other. So I tried 'whatap brother!' and he turned for a tick. But this toad was a prick. He rolled his beady eyes. And after two tries I was rejected again. Rejected again.

Can u believe that. I was lost where I sat. I couldn't hear sound. I was not gonna have fun if this jerk was around.  So I thought of ways to kill this little frog. As he sat in MY seat like a bump on a log. Bobbing his head.  Turning ME red. As my anger grew. And something in side me was... Atchu!
Where'd that come from I thought as I heard 'god bless you'.

And I looked in the direction of that little devil's reflection and I noticed something that made me question my escalating frustration.  And my guilt forced from my eye the tiniest little tear. For the little bastard was putting his hearing aid back in his ear.  The sneeze had simply caused him to adjust. And now I'm the jerk.  And there's one thing I must.

So I bought him a beer, which lead to three or four and by the end of the night we were crawling out the door. Together as friends. The red frog and I. And my little lesson was never to try. To listen and wait. Never over debate.  Cuz 'in my head' is a place best left alone.  My ego to silly to sit on a throne. I must leave my brain be and always think free.  So's to hang out where I are; with the toads.  


The folks at the bar; they walk many roads.




(What do you think of this? It just so happened that I went out tonight in Nakameguro and met some other foreigners. Alex and John to name a few. Both Canadians. You're right, everyone has a story to tell. -S)

Photo by Sadie Myers inspired by Dustin Whitehead's words.