hardly Nirvana

look, I asked the waiter, don’t you have
beer in a bottle?
no, he answered.
wait, I said, in a place as big as this
you mean you don’t have beer in a
bottle?
not the brand you asked for,
he responded.
but you do have other beers in a
bottle?
oh yes, he said.
then bring me one, I asked.
what kind?
any kind.
do you want me to take back the
glass of beer? he asked.
I’ll drink it, I told him.

he walked off to get my beer.
it was a cold December night.
I felt like punching somebody
out.

I watched a cruise ship slowly
navigate the harbor.
I drank my glass of beer.

the waiter was back with my
bottle of beer.

thanks much, I told
him.

so much for the freedom of
speech.
in the last bastion of the
bastards.

Sunday nights in San Pedro
aren’t very
much.