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Meetings At Sis' Beauty's Place

she moves swiftly between tables
decorated by empty schooners
and empty bottles of beer manned
by drunks calling for refills everytime
she passes by

behind the coounter,
walled by cases of distilled beer,
she sits listening to yesterday's reminiscents,
the same euphoria, the same fulminations
like broken records
emptying kegs lilke they're drops of tears
falling on vast oceans

or play referee in a feud
over the kings of local football
and utter vile imprecation over her broken chairs,
smashed windows and threatening bottle pieces
awaiting prey

she serves lost-love victims
avoiding all thoughts of alimony
and the retrenched completely falling apart
but that's none of her business
as long as they settle their debts

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