Celebreation Gone Wrong, a poem.

Celebration Gone Wrong
By
James Robert Smith


This happened a few years ago,
at a strip club on Monroe Road
right here in town,
one block from where I now
work.
Three brothers were out
celebrating
the medical school graduation of
the youngest of the three.
He was going to be a dentist.
So they went out eating
and drinking
and capped it off with a visit to
a titty bar.
While in this establishment
they became a little louder than
they might otherwise have become
due to the celebration of the
youngest brother becoming a
doctor.
The manager of the joint,
a recent parolee named
Shorty McGuire
got in their faces.
They told him to go to Hell.
He told them to leave.
They did so,
but
turned around one last time
to tell Shorty where to stick
it.
Shorty waited for them to get out of the door
and
standing in that glass partition
on the titty bar side of it
he put three slugs from his
.38
into the new, young doctor
killing him
instantly.
Back to the pen for Shorty.
Off to the worm ranch for
the young dentist who would
never get to
ply his trade
make his mark
earn a good living
buy a huge house
fix a bad smile
pull some teeth
marry a pretty girl
raise a family
be happy.
I don’t remember the kid’s
name
but I recall Shorty,
and his ugly, worthless, bearded
face in the newspaper.
Seems he needed some
dental work.
Shorty’s gone now.
In prison forever.
The titty bar is still there.