We lived in bars
the Irish bars on Clark Street
the downtown dives
the good happy-hour bargains
the late-night early morning piano bars
the bars that stayed open
after all the others had closed
the bars that opened early
featuring a good bloody mary
and signature sausage gravy
the bars with no questions asked
the bars with the best jukebox
the bars with bands and no cover
the bars with pitchers and never-ending pretzels
and meatballs with toothpicks
bars where i avoided some and sought out others
literary bars and sports bars
bars with steamed hot dogs
and a TV wherever you turned
bars where the bartender told good jokes
daytime bars, old-man bars
that all-black bar where my Irish sweetie asked
the men playing pool: talk black to me.
They bought us drinks the rest of the night
Bars where everyone knew your name
and bars where nobody talked, nobody went to
that only seemed to exist for you
The bar i worked in and met her at and lost my bartender job
for having served her
the bar we could never go back into
after she fell over backward on her stool
and i carried her home and put her to bed
before going out
to another bar
—Larry Crist