I swear to God it happened in slow motion
the way you walked in that night, like a movie,
like Jimmy Dean, like a record scratch jukebox
breakdown—
or maybe it was just me
someone, anyway, no one could believe.
Dark walls and faded posters of traveling bands
from years gone by seemed somehow fresh alive,
the smoke of years dissolving as you smiled
and dropped quarters on the table—
even Jesus stopped to stare
a shining pile of silver for anyone who dared.
At the foosball table, your hands clutched the levers,
red and blue pinwheels spinning to your command,
counterclockwise against the nature of my heart,
you were kicking ass—
I sipped my beer, losing time
you took every name but mine.
—
This is for Read Write Poem’s Prompt # 94. It’s an image prompt. A detail shot of the red and blue players on a foosball table called “My Angel and My Devil” by Thomas Hawk. Check out other people’s responses to the prompt here.
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
I really like the wrap up. Hammers home that sense of disbelief…
Thanks, Mark.
Except for the slomo, been there! Very nicely captured.
Your biblical allusion at the end of the second stanza is well done.
_____
Paul Oakley
Blogging his ReadWritePoem poems at
Inner Light, Radiant Life
Thanks, Paul. There used to be this guy you’d see in the bars around here who always dressed up like Jesus. He’d drink and shoot pool. I wanted to work him in somehow, but without explaining anything. Just him be there, you know.
I really like the mysterious and squalid details, and the implication of the “closed down” bar in terms of the condemned state of those inside, the apparent close-call escape of the speaker. The use of the second person is nice counterpoint as it brings the speaker up-close to the mysterious and dangerous figure.
David, Thanks for your close reading. I’m glad you were able to see it so vividly.
Nicely realized. My version of that bar had pool tables and pinball, but, yeah. I like those couplets, too.
Barbara, ours did too, but foosball was always my favorite. That and air hockey.
This was very well done…a sense of dread, as though the devil had come in to play…that is what you were getting at?
The angel/devil thing was going on in my head as that was the title of the photograph, but I wanted to be ambiguous about the speaker’s feelings for the foosball player. A bit of regret and a bit of relief.
I enjoyed the sense of excitement you managed to create. I also liked that you were not a victim to this hustler. I read your poem a few times. Thanks for writing it so well.
Linda, thanks for your comments. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
I like the ending very much.
Thanks, DJ
A night like that, I had. This piece makes my heart beat.
Tumblewords, those nights make for some interesting writing. Thanks for your comment and I’m glad it worked for you.
nicely done….really like th ending..thanks for sharing
Thank you, Wayne.
Awesome ending!
let the red bleed
Thanks, Gautami. I enjoyed yours as well.
Hi James,
I find this beautifully poetic and didn’t see the squalidness of the bar! I love:
“the smoke of years dissolving as you smiled”
and
“counterclockwise against the nature of my heart”
as well as the reference to the pile of silver penies.
Thanks, Derrick. I didn’t really think of it as squalid, just old, which is, I think, where the time references in those lines comes from. I’m glad you enjoyed it and thanks for reading.
I really like the tension between the poem’s vivid description and the chronology suggested by the title.
Thanks, Nathan. I’ve been experimenting with using titles to move my poems into slightly different directions than the text alone would do. If that makes any sense.