Finnegan’s Wake

By Alex Stolis

᠅

At the resolution of a funeral
we decide to go to Frankie’s
on Ninth.

They’ve got the best tap beer,
Finnegan loves the juke & mostly—
Antigone the bartender.

There’s a running bet, is that her
real name or not—Finnegan doesn’t care.
She’s rail thin, hair to her waist.

Chain smokes Pall Malls & can
drink most of us under the table.
We pile in for the wake dressed

in our best. New jeans, shirts tucked
& all the manners we can muster
between us.

Antigone nods & starts setting up
drinks. She’s a machine.
Sexy-cool efficiency.

Finnegan pumps the juke full of silver.
Jocko racks the table.
Antigone sets up round two.

We raise our glasses & bottles
to toast the honored dead.
Hail & cheer & lie.

Finnegan looks at Antigone.
She looks back.
The room gets louder.

The two of them.
Still.
Quiet.

Antigone winks, slides
her number across the bar—
sets up another round.

᠅

Alex Stolis has had poems published in numerous journals. His chapbook, Postcards from the Knife-Thrower's Wife, was released by Louisiana Literature Press in 2024, RIP Winston Smith from Alien Buddha Press 2024, and The Hum of Geometry; The Music of Spheres, 2024 by Bottlecap Press. He lives in Hudson Valley of New York with his partner, poet Catherine Arra.