Mini Anthology of Narrative Poems

THE MAN WHO BEAT THE GAME AT JOHNNY'S TRUCK STOP for Bruce Weigl

When he put his quarter in

The cowgirl's breasts

Lit up, one red, one green,

And something in her belly came

Up zeroes, opened.

A bell was ringing somewhere

And everybody turned

As the ball jumped

From flipper to bumper so fast

You couldn't tell where it was

Until her eyes went dark

And we all knew the score.

The man didn't say a word. He brought his hands down hard On the glass top of the machine And broke through into the shining Space we all gaze at, longing To touch it, never knowing What we want, or how easy it would be If you only didn't mind getting a little Blood on your hands.

We wrapped his

In napkins, and he sat a long time Not talking, not minding the dark Blot the bound fingers left On the table, not listening When we told him again and again He had a home.

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Responses

  • sabine farber
    How to write a minianthology?
    8 years ago

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