day nine: damn that short-term memory loss

one of my
oldest friends
his wife
my wife
and i
were all around
the table
the white album
on the turntable
side 1 playing loud

wow
i never noticed
mccartney used a pick
on while my guitar gently weeps
is that a hofner he's playing?
the organ swirls
cool
what is that effect
on clapton's guitar?
why was clapton
even there?

*pop*

i look up
and everyone is
looking at me
only half-grinning
as if their patience
was about to slip
off the leash
for good
those dogs
can certainly
be inconvenient
and rude

look down
at the table
two cards each
facing up
in front of
everyone
including me
can't remember
now i realize!
it's my turn
to throw a card
i look at my hand
three cards left
two red jacks
and a queen of clubs

and i strain silently
for a hint
of a memory
the card
that could tell me
my next logical move
is already
turned down
i look up
still hopeful
but confused
my friend
shakes his head
his half-grin
politely frozen
"i'll bet
you're going to ask
what trump is
again"

everyone at the table
including me
breaks into
hysterical laughter
and i am again reminded
that a classic exercise
in futility
is smoking weed
just before
a game of euchre