• Rate this poetry
User Review
5 (5 votes)


written by: HR



The bully stood at the end of the bar
leaning on his elbow, cigar clutched
between fingers pointing deliberately
at dissenters who dared negate his
claims that he is king with the divine
right to rule by edict.

His drunken rhetoric, racing between
topics emphasized by a clenched fist
banging on the bar fat face flushed
with rage spittle dribbling from the
corners of his mouth, condemned ghost
enemies, the press, free speech

his eyes tight with scorn obvious
disgust at the opinions of others,
at facts, the truth. His rant
continued unabated while others
began to walk to the door some silently
some with anger. Soon the bar was empty

The bar owner washed the last glasses,
cleaned the bar, turned off the lights
closed and locked the door after putting
a sign outside saying this bar will be
closed for four years. Still ranting the
bully didn’t realize the bar was empty.



Retired university professor quietly tending my garden and a herd of feral cats.
My poetry has been published in Voces de la Luna, The San Antonio Express-News, and two annual anthologies Quirk, and Borderless.

Latest posts by HR (see all)

Read previous post:
Clockwork written by J. G. Elas at Spillwords.com

Clockwork written by: J. G. Elas @jsphelas   at one i chained and locked myself inside my closet, embraced every...