Petty Theft and a Loose Necktie at Butya’s Tavern
by Thomas Williams, c 1992
Lemme tellya why i can’t go to buyta’s tavern
anymore. see i didn’t think anyone was watchin
me pocket those two tens that big blonde left
sittin on the bar next to a half-gone strawberry daiquiri.
This was the second er third time that evening
i’d given a home to some stray cash & by now i
needed a smoke too & didn’t there just happen
to be a pack a cigarettes sittin right nexta
that stupid strawberry slushie? Well they were
kents but hell they were free, though personally
i prefer marlboro lights lifted deftly from an
exxon station at two in the morning.
Well it got to be about time ta piss & while i
stood there this big bearded guy looking like
walt whitman pissed off & on steroids came in,
unzipped, & asked, “whaddya smoking?” When i
offered him a kent christ he grabbed my neck,
tapped my head up against the wall & snarled
“we’re goin outside.”
What really worried me was hearing that big
blonde say i looked kinda shifty. Hell i don’t
even have a black slouch hat. So while i
loosened my tie this guy grabs it & starts
draggin me to the back door … at least that’s
how it went til my tie came off in his hand &
i kinda bounded out the front door.
I guess if there was any kinda justice anywhere
in the world i’da got the shit kicked outta me
anyway er at least stayed true to some kinda
antihero fashion & mashed the brute in the backa
the head with a full beer mug.
I just got in my smoggy grey pickup & drove away
without thinking twice about that ugly paisley tie
i picked up fer half a buck at a thrift store in
greene county called the cherry door. Hey pull
inna that exxon station up past the next light …
-- Tom Williams