I awoke in a casket
At my own wake
I was wrapped in a basket,
Was there some mistake?
After class in night school,
I stumbled in here,
I sat on a bar stool
And ordered a beer
'The brown foamy stuff? '
Asked the man at the bar
And offered a puff.
From his wet chewed cigar,
A waitress came by
And gave me a hickey
In a small shot of rye
She slipped me a mickey;
Cramped in tight quarters
In a fresh pine wood box
Lamented my daughters
“He’s wearing white sox.”
I mixed up my French
When requesting a beer,
The bilingual wench
Thought I said “bier.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks for the morning laugh.