Poetry: Entertaining Glances

Soft muted colors
make impromptu kaleidoscope
in my pint glass.

Slip past the warm blooded,
flush faced regulars,
the fretting malcontent hands,
fingering empty pitchers.
Salivating mouths,
shout their ill satisfaction.

I catch your stray glances-
a haphazard tapestry of fate,
spilled out through hazy cigarette smoke.

What intentions?
Foamy realizations leave their mark.
As I sip to the tunes,
watching sharks get sharked -
in pool hall glory.

We , full of promise and alcoholic malice.
Closing time paints a weary picture.
Will phone numbers call themselves?

-- Amber © 2002. All Rights Reserved