MEDIOCRE – A Poem

Words: Valentino Koch
Art: Valentino Koch
Audio: Valentino Koch

How can I be this mediocre

Un-agreeably 

Unreasonably

Unseasonably unseasoned

No sauce

Battered and cut

Like this cutlet of fresh fish fried from a dilapidated highway side pub

Served on a coaster that’s suppose to

Soak in the fat, oil and grease

This is a feast that goes unclaimed and repeatedly ordered

Left to sweat in the raggedy rough house

Where the beer taps have tapped out

A glass half existent is raised with the bar

To a bare chair reminiscent of a missing musician

Patrons sit floor board with a case of stairs

And break it down to general managers wear and tare

Even the bar stools can’t stand to be there

Now the pool cues felt the vibe pocketed all the balls

And left on que as though something were skew

But that ain’t nothing new

It’s an empty place, an empty till

How are the lights brighter than the staff

When the electricity bill is yet to see a bill

Even the tumbleweeds are at a stand-still

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