this ghostly ambience
stop me if you’ve heard the one
about the pregnant waitress
and the zamboni driver
yeah, I can’t think of the punchline
either
what would you expect, holding
my breath and drinking a beer
at the same time is a new skill
like spiritualism, I practice it sparingly
I’m trying not to think about the soul
of the prime rib in front of me
or to notice past myself waiting
at the bar, another beer
and a photo of an illuminated
zippo sign before I shuffle
up to buffalo, catch a predator
ever wonder if leon czolgosz
got into heaven?
I overhear the pregnant waitress
say she still hopes they’re here
in twenty years, the sentence
was innocent in her mind
now it’s dead on the floor
I would go through the stacks
for another conversation piece
but fuck all, sometimes
it’s best to leave it there
dead. I’ve got my mask
there’s a sunset out there
where american flags
outnumber people
I should strike up conversation
with my addled sense of wonder instead
pregnant waitress returns
offers me another beer
suddenly dusk is nonsense
suddenly american flags are nonsense
I missed this ghostly ambiance
mask off, yes to beer
i suppose I spend more time than
I thought talking to the dead
About the Author: Jason Baldinger is a poet from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and former Writer in Residence at Osage Arts Community. He has multiple books available including the chapbook Blind Into Leaving (Analog Submission Press) as well as the forthcoming Afterlife is a Hangover (Stubborn Mule Press) & A Threadbare Universe (Kung Fu Treachery). His work has been published widely in print journals and online. You can listen to him read his work on Bandcamp and on lps by the bands Theremonster and The Gotobeds.
More Poetry by Jason Baldinger:
When Cancer Comes to Evansville, Indiana
Image Credit: ” INTERIOR VIEW LOOKING EAST – White Crystal Diner, 20 Center Avenue, Atlantic Highlands, Monmouth County, NJ” The Library of Congress (public domain)
As It Ought To Be 