“Don’t Invite Me To Play Pool”
National Poetry Writing Month 2018 Poem #10
The cue feels awkward in my hands.
It’s been years since I’ve done this.
I’m nervous under these conditions:
Surrounded by dozens of rough,
Foul-mouthed scoundrel types.
But I’m with my amazing siblings,
Which brings me a level of comfort.
I pass the cue to my brother and let
Him play our sister while I attempt
To remember all the strategies.
Sitting back, I let off a number of
Quick-witted comments to make them
Less embarrassed when they miss.
After several rounds, no one has
Hit anything in, so I tag myself in.
My confident expression is replaced
By uncontrollable laughter as I scratch.
The white ball is retrieved and we
Discuss the proper rules for continuing.
A few rounds later, I scratch once again.
Shaking his head, my brother takes
The cue back and resumes the turn.
We alternating taking missing shots
And then switching in at every scratch.
My sister is the most experienced and
Yet she says that she is out-of-practice.
Nearby players take pity on us three
And teach us some helpful tricks.
Just as I’m about to hit in the last
And final striped ball into a pocket,
The white ball taps in the eight.
A fit of giggles accompany my loss
Before we rack ’em up once again.