Did you know this is a Pokestop? The girl in the company softball team jersey asks the bartender too loudly, drunk on two beers, an afternoon in the July sun, her first base hit of the season. The corner bar’s air-conditioning has energized the crowd, a giddy respite from the sticky heat, everyone seems to be laughing when a loud pop marks a caesura in the din, everyone jumps and puzzles, a champagne cork? a pricked balloon? when the bartender leaps over the bar and races into the street where two cars have just smashed into each other. Everyone leers out the windows, cheers when the bartender runs back in triumphant Nobody’s hurt, I called the police as if he was responsible. A firetruck arrives, the drunk girl on her knees on her barstool to catch a glimpse of the scene, her friend’s arms circling her waist like a hula hoop, hoping to catch her if she topples, Holy shit that firefighter looks like hipster Fabio! and he does, razor cheekbones, brown hair to his shoulders, vintage tattoos on the ropes of his forearms, an anchor, a pierced heart, wears the dour pout of a young man who’s read too much Kerouac, laments not being around for the 50s. It’s hot and this isn’t a fire so he’s stripped down to his navy t-shirt and baggy yellow fire pants, red suspenders holding them up Is this a Magic Mike flash mob? The girl on her knees maneuvers to stand on the bar without knocking over drinks, her friend pulls her down to earth, the rest are fat and bald and everyone smiles, grateful for suspense, relief, and beauty, orders another round.

Carrie Conners, originally from West Virginia, lives in Queens, NY and teaches English at LaGuardia CC-CUNY. Her book, Luscious Struggle, (BrickHouse Books 2019) was selected as a 2020 Paterson Poetry Prize Finalist. Her poetry has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and has appeared in Bodega, Glass, Quiddity, RHINO, and The Monarch Review, among other publications. She is also a poetry reader for Epiphany.