Drinking Etiquette

slow thinkers thinking slowly 

drinkers deserts are lonely,

questions echoing, never answered 

drunk seekers lost in blizzards,

will the next drink save me

will the next sip enslave me,

who really cares?

bodies appear surgically fused

to barstools, hushed voices discuss

daily horse race fixtures, 

a snide bet on the side is just what

the doctor ordered,

the best of men stay drunk

they don’t allow procedure

or protocol to erode their soul

they just sleep it off,

it’s all about the ‘footie results’

an away game goal, 

happy hour, pints and peanuts 

who gives a toss about tomorrow,

we might not live that long

endless tales of success and sorrow

sit lukewarm at the bottom 

of every pint glass, the philosophy 

of the ‘not quite sober’ is renowned 

the world over, jibber-jabber 

and an over lubricated jaw

has contributed endless entries 

into the Encyclopedia of the absurd, 

at the pumps perfectly presented poison

is poured with existential consideration,

it’s a matter of life and death

pulling the perfect pint 

and fashioning a luscious head,

we’ve got the stout pout, the larger lout 

the court jester using swan-vesta 

matches as toothpicks, 

circus tricks don’t mix

with cheap vodka 

and Jello shots

“that’s your last drink mate,

you’ve had your lot!”

certain cliental would rather die 

in agony having lived the life

they wanted to, rather than chew

on a carrot or snort a plant-based stew,

who really wants to live until a ripe old age 

when you’re bound to a bed and pissing

through a tube, the nanny state 

ain’t welcome here

you can keep your peer reviewed 

bullshit at the door

just ‘pull me another beer’

and put it on my tab

the days never drag when 

happy hour lasts all week