Tonight's Poet Corner: Maxson and Hodges

Maxson and Hodges
by Belinda Roddie

Maxson and Hodges
wore hickory-colored suits every day
to their jobs at the firm before
shedding off the three-pieces and
hightailing it to Well's to drink
cold scotch and crunch ice over past lives.
They snorted with laughter about their
mothers and toasted to every day they survived
without going bald or sucker punching the inept
front desk clerk because the poor guy couldn't ell
his left from his right.

Hodges bought Maxson the last round
one night, and Maxson in return gave him
a Hamilton to cover. Hodges said,
"No, sir, that's the point of buying a round.
You don't have to pay me back."
And dear old Maxon was so flabbergasted by
this act of kindness from his lawsuit-obsessed,
take-what-you-can attitude-bearing friend that he
spontaneously combusted and left the ashes of his
sports jacket all over the bar stool.