A couple of days ago I was at the Hideaway West bar & grille, and while there wrote a poem called “hearts are not flowers.” There was a fellow there who often asks me to look up various country & western stars to see if they are still alive. Diplomatically as possible I told him I couldn’t: busy on a poem.
Long story short–I recited the poem, to some applause. The bartender, Allisyn, expressed praise. Long story longer–I made a commitment to write a poem for and/about her. That is when I learned the exotic spelling of her name.
I know next to nothing about Allisyn, except that she does her job with intelligent competence, but I’ve bellied up to a slueful of bars in my adult life, and have seen some of what bar folk go through . . .
“we tend to win,” says allisyn,
“when we dispel the gloom.
all is not lost, nor chaos-tossed,
when woof unwarps the loom.
“when tending bar, a superstar
must be both soft and hard.
the job has perks, but there are jerks
who’ll put you on your guard.
“but then a mellow femme or fellow
stops by frequently,
becomes a friend, and then you tend
with glad alacrity.
“and that is why the job that i
took on can make me smile.
nobody’s fool–sometimes i rule,
and then i rule with style.”