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(Don't rightly remember. They always called me Dogg / The Potato Fields, Indiana)

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Down and Out in Bloomington

I walk the streets wondering
'why me? ' I'm pathetic as I
head into the bar to gulp
my fill of Coors(Lite) . 'They'

all look at me and I flip
them the bird. They chuck
me out on the sidewalk with
a wet head. Coors(Lite)
drips

into my eyes and tears
flow out of them. I stroll
back in for some peanuts
with my black eye. And

Johnny says 'Why're you
back in here, Dork? '

My red checkered shirt
is ripped,

and I say 'I'm hungry
for some a them there
peanuts, and I need a
Coors (Lite) .' They all
chuckle,

and throw cigarette
butts at me, but I get
to the peanuts with a
growlin' in my gut.

I stumble to the jukebox

and pull up Rainy Day
Women 12@35, and I
scream as loud as I
can, 'ONE OF YOU
FU*KERS GIMME
A QUARTER! '

Submitted: Thursday, December 20, 2012
Edited: Thursday, December 20, 2012


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Comments about this poem (Not Damn Dominos by Just the Regular Scotty Dogg )

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  • Peter Stavropoulos (12/27/2013 7:06:00 AM)

    Brought to mind Keroauc's - October in the railway earth - I like.

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Kanav Justa (11/14/2013 8:45:00 AM)

    hahah, , , , , , loved it completely..

  • Michael Oliver (1/25/2013 5:06:00 PM)

    this is excellent getting the measure of your style. Been there puked there may be without the juke box

  • * Sunprincess * (12/24/2012 8:30:00 PM)

    oh dear you are going to be thrown out again..omg..hahaha
    absolutely love this one!

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