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.
Written by mjs211 (MikeTheEngineer)
Published | Edited 28th Mar 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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