“Mind your p’s & q’s”, she said you’ll fall down walkin’ home or crash your car, end up dead not a good way to go, geek– and if you’re writin’ me a poem dot your i’s and cross your t’s. fourth stanza, line six, last word I’ve had an eye on you a while– […]
Category: Drinking
La Feria de Abril, Sevilla, España
What the old know the young don’t believe the wiles of youth are not lost on the wise: as a busy farmer sees a fox does not call his dog or get a gun the old allow freedom, turn a blind eye The young wonder is life always like this, the elders say, not […]
To My Mexican American Neighbors
The long hours of your drinking are now the short hours of my sleep. Sleep covers me with black sheets but your latino voices startle my ears. I would cry out the window, ¡Cállate!, but civility prevents me. So amigos, I still up with you Hearing the riot of your banter Pretending I’m a writer. […]
Grrrrrl Friday
The future never arrives on time When it does It’s not what I expect: A walk in the park, A punk grrrl In pink Mohawk Lifts her green skirt Shows me some blue bush… Runs off laughing, I laugh too. I guess she wanted to shock me Give me a thrill, I don’t know. I […]
A Kind of Drinking Song
The celebrants of Friday scotch, men of lesser deeds Spent time like pocket change in endless café-bars Made noise enough to wake the quick and dead: There was light drizzle on a cherry blossom way, The six of us, smashed, but more high on ourselves As most young men will be when booze is abused, […]
