Rack'Em Poem by Alexander Beebe

Rack’m – A. Beebe

She entered through the back door
with a black case in her hand. Four inch
stilettos on her heels, black leather jacket
and matching pants.

Unfamiliar to the boys that played
here every night. They yielded to her
run way gait, mesmerized by such a sight.

The juke box in the corner that played country
all night long, began to play “Back in Black”
as she strut across the floor.

Her sites were set on Johnny’s table
where the best played every night.
Her confidence shown just as bright
as all the pool hall neon lights.

She said “I’ll swell the purse if pools your game,
and you’re the last man standing.
But should you scratch or dog the nine,
you’ll go home empty handed. “
He looked at her and chalked his que
then smiled and told her “Rack’em”! !

Oh Johnny was a seasoned vet of
running all the numbers. He never lost
a single game to any pool shark hustler.
But when she pulled the trigger on
that bright black stick she carried,
the numbers started dropping fast
and Johnny started sweating.

She circled round the table like a hawk
upon its prey. Each shot she took met
the pocket; she called each one by name.

Poor Johnny never got the chance to show
what he could do. She ran the table all night
long this hustler couldn’t lose.

That night when all the lights went out
and Johnny made it home. He told his
wife “I taught you well, you put on quite
the show.” He said I have just one confession,
as he looked into her eyes. Although you beat
me at my game, I still took home the prize! !