Bar Flies Poem by Alexandre Nodopaka

May 24,2008
cruising up & down
not far from LA in San Pedro
I was stumping along W 7th

until I butted against S Pacific
then looped round to Gaffey
with Bukowski on my mind
when, I be damned, two

long-ago-sidewalk-beauties
propositioned me to a
well drink at God Mother's,
a bar down that same street.

In the darkened booth recess
they rolled a couple of joints
but them being bar flies
I swatted them off the rim

of my half-empty
still paper-wrapped Vodka bottle
and drank them bottoms up
one after the other.