Bartender to a Gorgon

A poem by Isabelle Lang

2021

Months--Poetry
Poetry

en-US

text

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Isabelle Lang_Bartender to a Gorgon.pdf

Copyright protected by Isabelle Lang. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required.

Note on transcription: This transcription may not reflect the poetic form established by the poet. Please refer to the PDF file of this poem available in the Files section for proper formatting.

Bartender to a Gorgon

So Medusa walks up, orders two whiskey shots
leaves one at my elbow, winks. She says I can ask her
if they’re real, can touch the scaly creatures 
on her scalp, but my manager is watching

so I shake my head and push the pretzels her way. 
I thought she would want to dance.
That she’d move wildly around the floor
and other people, that she’d put twenty dollars

in the jukebox and play Pearl Jam all night. 
I thought someone might make a bad joke 
about giving head and then 
we’d have a sculpture for a bouncer

but she orders a Blue Moon instead, sits 
on the same stool all night long
swings her feet a little because she’s shorter 
than I thought she’d be and her feet don’t reach the rungs.

After last call, I give her a light outside.
She tells me about her sisters and I let her vent
because she looks sad and her scarred 
throat sounds thick with held-back tears.