Just Dropped In

P arking my Harley near the doorway, we sauntered inside. O ther than a lone microphone, I took the emptiness in stride. E VENTUALLY the emcee asked what would be our order, T hough it was hard for him to speak because of his goiter. R eaching for my empty wallet was an INEVITABLE ILLUSION, Y our CREATIVITY will be needed now, to prevent any contusion. P erhaps I was mistaken, thinking I’d drop in for an alcohol INFUSION. A lthough, the strong smell of pot just might ease that delusion. L ooking all around the place for some small sense of sanity, A fter that, the TV just went blank during a show called “Hannity.” C ould this place, I wondered; be a “poetry palace” with an open mike? E xcited, I ran out for the chap book I left on my trike. By John Trusty