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This Ain't No Place of
Hemingway's
This ain't no place of Hemingway's
No, not this place where I tend bar
Through this place have come straights and gays;
Dull men of peace, dark men of war;
Some Protestant, some Catholic,
Many gentile, though many Jew;
Through this place never did frolic
A gamboler; gamblers? A few.
If you've lost any faith in me,
Then take a gander at this cage,
For I'm not allowed to serve thee
If thou art under drinking age.
At table 38, who is there
Crying into his round of gin and kryptonic?
He's more powerful than anyone anywhere,
But no life is more ironic.
How can he help one person while a village burns?
How can he save the west while the east slowly dies?
Vice-versa? Vice-versa? As the world turns--
The lead-coated truth is kept from his eyes.
At table 666, whom I muse
is swimming around in his bottle of tequila,
Retired truth devising ruse,
Leading the demonic locust flotilla?
Once a healer in the run, now then ruin,
Once a dealer of the sun, now a briar.
Twin brother to a virgin bruin,
He with golden lyre is liar.
At table 1412, qui est-elle
Chanting for some Benedictine?
If I were to card her, would she be the beast or the
belle?
Although a general, she is not over seventeen.
Does she not know that this is not Orleans?
She's bleeding her eyes and ears just to get a Bloody
Mary;
So to appease her, I'll give her a flaming filet mignon,
And she'll clothe sexually-contrary.
At table 87, who is he
That through seance enjoys spirits;
He who addresses his companions very honestly;
He who could emancipate, but himself not come near it?
Though he be here, I see but half his essence,
For he is also forced to bellhop some place,
According to his theatrical sentence
By a judge of conspiratorial face.
At table 1, who's that deaf man,
Savoring none but bread and wine?
Why, I believe it's my old friend
Who has faith in my ev'ry line.
If you've lost any faith in me,
Then listen to what I've just said,
For I'm not allowed to serve thee
If thou art going to be dead.
This ain't no place of Hemingway's
No, not this place where I tend bar
Through this place have come many rays,
Never tainted and always pure;
Some Protestant, some Catholic,
Many gentile, though many Jew;
Though I've seen an alcoholic,
I wouldn't be if I were you.
Mike Puskar
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