our supper done, we wander, to delight us, through darkened ways to where the silver light is: Parkers Korner bar, where pocket billiards lures me in, despite my damn bursitis.
the jukebox plays, Sierra dances, Mara reads, my smile is like a lion in the weeds (Sierra, sitting, spills her M & M's); I run the table, eight enchanting deeds
for 50¢. now Myron racks the gaudy balls, & runs em. even. (& in bawdy innocence my family dance their straws while Mickey Gilly roars about "Miss Clawdy").
Peewee asks us if we want more beer & brandy. "Gotta go." our family cheer doth crystallize. we glide the alleys bright with broken glass, get home & sleep is here.
