“Ode to a Dive Bar” by R.G. Evans

Nine in the morning, noon, half past 2:00 am,

everything’s always the same.

Beer lights barely cut through the gloom.

Jimmy behind the bar, barely here,

eyes glued to the Mets flaming out on TV.

If you’re here it’s because there

wouldn’t have you, or you it.

It’s a fraternity, not just from

the absence of women. Cloistered 

monks of a-shot-and-a-beer,

the brotherhood of one more round.

The coffin-sized bathroom, a paradise

of indie band stickers and dicks on the wall,

smells like the silence between Tom Waits songs.

Jimmy slams a shot on the bar, says

This one’s on him. Down by the pickled eggs,

Bukowski flashes a nicotine smile

and raises his whiskey like sacramental wine.

Return the toast – game recognizes game, after all.

On the TV, Juan Soto makes it to second,

and hope, for a moment, stays alive.

R.G. Evans is the author of Overtipping the Ferryman, The Holy Both, and Imagine Sisyphus Happy. His albums of original songs, Sweet Old Life, Kid Yesterday Calling Tomorrow Man, and Haunted are available on most streaming platforms.