Pool

Unshaven man with one tooth

Challenges me to a

Game of 8 ball.

He has shaky hands

Watery eyes

Tired look that says

I can take him.

I down my fifth beer

Break the balls

Claim stripes

Finish him off

Before the next round comes.

He rests the cue on the table 

Says good game

That I shouldn't worry about life so much.

He disappears before I challenge him on that.

I sit heavily on the stool

Eat the orange slice

Wonder which of my teeth

Will go first.

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Photo:  Poem Fix