Green Mill by PW Covington

Broadway snow and slush in April
Parking meters take a breather and let us keep the change
Until next morning, Monday

Dark space
Deep place
“Cash only” hand written by the door
Poetry tonight
As it has been
     and will be

Come in from the wet snow
Slam the door

Turn table jukebox. 78’s
“Lydia, oh, Lydia
     have you met Lydia?”
The wooden bar wraps around the room

It’s Pabst on draft tonight
5 bucks a pint
I’m tryin’ to save my cash
Still drinking on Sioux Fall’s haul
Saving up for a down payment on a new
Second hand soul
No longer needed
By some transplant, that’s left for California
When I step on stage
A pilgrim
Of the word and world and the void
And of Broadway and passion and of, of, of
Truthiness-ish communion
With Palm Unit rhythm section
Bass, piano, and drums

Jazz and strong drink tabernacle
Rooms just like this
In April

Equal in glorious, dark, obscurity
Here for the words

 PW Covington writes in the beat tradition of the North American highway.

His latest book, a collection of short fiction, titled North Beach and Other Stories was recently named a 2019 Finalist in LGBTQ Fiction. Follow him @BeatPW