Microagression

I froze when the waitress asked “together or separate.”

Because here we were not just with your coworkers

but your employees.

And it took me back to Northern Michigan.

To a blue collar bar with wood paneling,

ancient crackling neon sign for Pabst Blue Ribbon

before the hipsters claimed it.

The bar was

haunted by spirits

"New Shit Slam" Poem 2 of 3

Second of three poems in three weeks for the "New Shit" Slam. Today I met slam poet El Jones and she says she never spends more than 2-6 hours on a poem. I tried to go with less control in these three pieces. Although to be far this poem was seeded over the summer after a Netflix documentary binge. This one could be expanded.

Up North

One day I will be middle aged and I shall sweatshirts with technicolor stripes and silhouettes of moose and bears on them. I will tell people I bought it “Up North”.  Mackinac will be “Up North” and you and I will go “Up North” on the weekends.  Life will cease to exist for us above the bridge.

Karaoke at the Gates of Hell

Purgatory is a bar in the UP with

wood panels saturated by the ghosts of so many spilled spirits you can smell it.

We never noticed until we weren’t allowed to smoke inside anymore.

This is where we wait

to be forgiven

to start our next lives.