Menu
Tuesday, February 27, 2018

A Few Drinks And We're All Poets

We'll head out, you and me, have a pint, or
Maybe three, a cool thin ale, like sunlight,
Or a lager, toke the dregs of the day.
We'll catch up, slide down, the barmaid will pour
And we'll lean back from the compulsory fight
Over a highborn lady or new play.
A few shots, icy beaker of thinned gin,
Warm welcome of a good whiskey, and not
One moment to spare, as the bell will have rung.
They will pat you for guns on the way in,
And you'll have a fine time, if you don't get shot.
This is our last stark, sad chance to feel young.
What else to say of our faint star-fall town,
But we've sunk so low, we might as well drown.
Ernest Hilbert
Topic(s) of this poem: drinking
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS

Delivering Poems Around The World

Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...

1/15/2021 10:26:06 AM # 1.0.0.396