deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Tally Ho
Take a plunge down the mountain,
away from the austere University
and its ivy-covered morals,
through the only two blocks left
that still qualify as "bustling," then further,
getting seedier with every downhill block
and don't change your direction
'til you've hit the river.
It's like the barkeep knew
what his bar was to become,
and picked the lowest point
to highlight the irony.
Seedier than a farm
and more wooly than a sheep,
the bouncer takes your ID
but reads your face instead.
Hands back your card silently
and resumes scanning for cherry-tops,
bouncer-speak for "you shall pass."
Then into the darkness, hoping the guy
who pulled out his .45 last time
as a means of winning an argument
has already come and gone today.
The steel mills have been quiet for a decade now,
but patrons never really leave their bar of choice.
It brings a bit of shanty town to this little dying city.
** Written for the 'Artistic Inspiration Challenge' thread: the goal was to write a poem about the word "dive." I'd like to think I picked the most interesting definition of the word.
away from the austere University
and its ivy-covered morals,
through the only two blocks left
that still qualify as "bustling," then further,
getting seedier with every downhill block
and don't change your direction
'til you've hit the river.
It's like the barkeep knew
what his bar was to become,
and picked the lowest point
to highlight the irony.
Seedier than a farm
and more wooly than a sheep,
the bouncer takes your ID
but reads your face instead.
Hands back your card silently
and resumes scanning for cherry-tops,
bouncer-speak for "you shall pass."
Then into the darkness, hoping the guy
who pulled out his .45 last time
as a means of winning an argument
has already come and gone today.
The steel mills have been quiet for a decade now,
but patrons never really leave their bar of choice.
It brings a bit of shanty town to this little dying city.
** Written for the 'Artistic Inspiration Challenge' thread: the goal was to write a poem about the word "dive." I'd like to think I picked the most interesting definition of the word.
Published 24th Mar 2011
| Edited 28th Mar 2011
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Anonymous
- Edited 27th Mar 2011 9:56am
27th Mar 2011 9:54am
This is a splendid poem. It reminds me somewhat of Cormac McCarthy's "Suttree", a novel filled with dive bars such as these. The last four lines of the first stanza are my favourite, managing as they do to be both bleak and witty at the same time. Would the impact of them be more pronounced though if the descent from the university into the city's seedier side lasted a bit longer? We came an awful long way in so little time.
Also for me the poem ends at "little dying city", but aside from those quibbles this is a charming poem.
Also for me the poem ends at "little dying city", but aside from those quibbles this is a charming poem.
28th Mar 2011 7:55pm
I like your ideas; made the quick ending edit, and I'll see what hits me with the rest of it when I have time to fiddle. Thanks for reading!
