Jimmy's Shit Luck

in bill's bar september '01
rain sings like a talk fast song.
jimmy just found out why pool halls aren't advertised,
but i leave
before a priceless imitation of his boss.
home to see sharon's familiar waltz.
belt buckle slapping brass bedposts,
i wasn't invited to the dance
but i realize,
she's stepped on my toes too many times.
back to bill's,
to catch the end of jimmy's performance
and get horizontally polarized.
on highway 31, two years later.
i see sharon,
picking up her husband from work.
i laugh and think one-car couple
as i slam into cadillac's bumper
hearing only belt buckles slapping brass.