Dulacca - for a day

laying bets on big over small kelly pool of numbers scratched on scraps of torn up beer coasters going for the five wondering who will lose to the pocket back left slight angle potted - white ambles awkwardly stops lolls over patchy felt levelled by a folded menu torn and tucked under one wooden leg six pairs of denying eyes smile on cue thumping sticks warriors chant - good shot and nice one juke-box spins another tortured country death song we all know the words assume accents and postures relevant licking salted lips the barman collects - rubbish fag butts occasional smiles crisp packets split and scattered on the faded tablecloth and hope we spend a little more time/money/whatever A road-train thunders past out rumbled by laughter wise cracks and smoky grins another layer of dust settles on the fading sign which once proudly read Free Beer - Today Only now just a smudge on the drivers side window and the talking head above the bar nods...