Sestina of a Tired Man in Las Vegas
by Kyle
genre:
Sports
description:
A poem
chapters
chapter 1:
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chapter 1
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updated 07/03/08
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2197 characters
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1 person liked it
Gary is careful not to twiddle his moustache
Or rotate his hairy wrist to catch a glimpse of his watch.
He makes sure, when he bluffs, not to touch his face,
Which is thick and pasty white, the face of a Polish
Steelworker. But he has risen above that station
To become a gambler who sniffs glue.
Gary sniffs the same kind of glue
That he vaguely remembers using long ago, to attach a moustache
To a policeman in a construction paper police station.
He understands, though, now that he’s older, he has to watch
This habit. Because the Polish,
Are unforgiving and won’t cotton to such things. To face
Them is to face the scarred, angry face
Of a hairless cat, caught in a puddle of glue.
Gary catches himself thinking, sighs, and proceeds to rub the polish,
The fake laquered stuff that’s painted, like a lipstick moustache,
Over the edge of casino tables, and then (watch
How he does it) casually stops and waits for his turn. To station
His chewing gum somwhere, Gary removes a sheet of hotel station-
Ery from his pocket. With the hotel’s letterhead face-
Up, he spits his gum out on to it. The other players are on watch,
But these are nothing, so they look down. Heavy air, like glue,
Pervades. It would seem to get caught in the net of a moustache.
These things are noticed, by people who, like our Polish
Hero Gary, have eyes like machine guns and sweat like polish.
He, Gary I mean, used to live near a fire station.
At the alarm, he would be jarred awake, enough to see a moustache
On a fireman’s face
Through the window, fogged by glue.
For the minute it took the firemen to suit up, Gary would watch.
They have a movie theater near the casino, and Gary thinks he’ll watch
A comedy. Perhaps a character would be a hapless, Polish,
Glue-sniffer, like himself. Perhaps in a sticky situation: not sticky like glue
Or the floor of a gas station
Or a child’s face
After eating jelly. Sticky like hopeless, an approaching razor for a moustache.
Gary wonders if it’s hopeless to watch the goings-on of a fire station
Or to punch a Polish man in the face.
Hasn’t someone’s glue already gotten into his moustache?
back to top
Or rotate his hairy wrist to catch a glimpse of his watch.
He makes sure, when he bluffs, not to touch his face,
Which is thick and pasty white, the face of a Polish
Steelworker. But he has risen above that station
To become a gambler who sniffs glue.
Gary sniffs the same kind of glue
That he vaguely remembers using long ago, to attach a moustache
To a policeman in a construction paper police station.
He understands, though, now that he’s older, he has to watch
This habit. Because the Polish,
Are unforgiving and won’t cotton to such things. To face
Them is to face the scarred, angry face
Of a hairless cat, caught in a puddle of glue.
Gary catches himself thinking, sighs, and proceeds to rub the polish,
The fake laquered stuff that’s painted, like a lipstick moustache,
Over the edge of casino tables, and then (watch
How he does it) casually stops and waits for his turn. To station
His chewing gum somwhere, Gary removes a sheet of hotel station-
Ery from his pocket. With the hotel’s letterhead face-
Up, he spits his gum out on to it. The other players are on watch,
But these are nothing, so they look down. Heavy air, like glue,
Pervades. It would seem to get caught in the net of a moustache.
These things are noticed, by people who, like our Polish
Hero Gary, have eyes like machine guns and sweat like polish.
He, Gary I mean, used to live near a fire station.
At the alarm, he would be jarred awake, enough to see a moustache
On a fireman’s face
Through the window, fogged by glue.
For the minute it took the firemen to suit up, Gary would watch.
They have a movie theater near the casino, and Gary thinks he’ll watch
A comedy. Perhaps a character would be a hapless, Polish,
Glue-sniffer, like himself. Perhaps in a sticky situation: not sticky like glue
Or the floor of a gas station
Or a child’s face
After eating jelly. Sticky like hopeless, an approaching razor for a moustache.
Gary wonders if it’s hopeless to watch the goings-on of a fire station
Or to punch a Polish man in the face.
Hasn’t someone’s glue already gotten into his moustache?
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