Posts Tagged ‘Bellingham’

back when I rode my bicycle around Bellingham

 when coffee was work and pleasure  swimming

in lakes before sprinting to work, our tips powered

economies and kept the wheels of industry spinning


after work we gathered like rain in the middle of streets

like whales in a pod, pooling our resources, those

stranger given compliments, tips, collected like children’s

wishes in the bottom of jars; we rode, the change heavy in our pockets


when the sky was smudged charcoal and our eyes

fixed on distant selves, we counted coins

on the counter, until Jessie just winked and slid the pitcher

across to us with glasses, frosted like winter windows


and our tips became his, nightly divided between

bartenders and the man who worked the door

where I let Richard Buckner check my I.D.

where I tried not to drink too much nor too early


our labor made the city spin

our voices wove the tapestries of background

we were the heartbeat to every dark night

spent spending and waxing toward the dawn

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