Who's the guy at the end of the bar
shooting me with darts?
I tilt my glass in his direction
yet he looks through me with hatred.
Have I done something wrong?
I've ordered the oysters,
drank down my glass of wine,
now I'm drinking cold gin,
the olive orbiting the rim,
like Saturn I'm flying high.
My book of poetry is open
above a dirty napkin.
I just want to know
did I do something wrong?
Are those looks aimed at me?
I want to see a crowd of happy faces
not a man nursing his beer like a baby.
Robert Castagna teaches Pictures and Poetry at a local senior center. As a photographer, he has received the Massachusetts Cultural Council Photography Fellowship and The Artist's Resource Trust Grant. He has published a book of photographs and poems entitled Borderlands. He is a returning student of creative writing attending UMass Boston.
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