The Inverted Rainbow

Cigarette smoke vanishing like
an Indian rope trick to the ceiling.
Men laughing at their own nakedness
as the drinks peeled layers of shyness,
peg after peg.

Waiters, harried, running to and fro
looking tipsy with all the brews fumes.

“What,” some dope asks, “Is
the most beautiful thing in the world ?”
Answers from the sublime to
ribald to the risqué rakes the
bar’s smoke fog, followed by
guffaws.

Until one silent man who
seemed to grow inward as he got
high and higher, opens his mouth.
“I had seen an inverted rainbow,”
he says solemnly. So out of place.
“That, was the most beautiful.”

“He is the drunkest,” we all howl.
“Or cock-eyed,” says the jester.
“Maybe he walks with his
legs held high and his head firmly
planted on the ground.” the wit says.

More comments, critiques and wise cracks.
More sniggers, taunts, barbs.

“He is the weirdest,” we all agree,
as the man finishes his drink.

He gets up.
He looks unwounded by our snides
and holds his head high.

“ I had,” he looks around pityingly
at us sozzlers, “seen my girl smile.”

And he walks out.