At Headquarters

It’s a evening in the week and the bar is packed,
while rain sieves down from a pitch black sky
with white lightning flashes streaking down
every now and then sounding as a growling monster.

Two half drunk yuppies raise their draughts
clinking the mugs before knocking each other around
bruising each other’s arms with a couple of blows
and going to the counter to fetch some more beer.

A couple of musclemen circle the pool table
shooting the billiard balls into the pockets
and one curses when he misses
and it’s the turn of one of the others.

A couple of girl’s are playing
at the gambling machines inserting coins
and pulling levers and when one hits a jackpot
the lot of them are cheering, sounding like choir.

There are puddles of water at the door
and the yellow and green neon light flashes outside
while a black and white cat sneaks around
among the parked cars

undisturbed by the human laughter,
the ruckus of partying people
and it finds shelter against a wall
when the rains starts pouring down again.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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