In Mountjoy One Monday Morning Poem by Michael Pruchnicki

The evening usually began
with a remark from the Professor
about the present state of the world
and the decline of western civilization

'I'll second that! ' Driscoll would shout
as he slammed his paw on the bar.

We all murmured our assent
and took a sip of frothy draught.

The Prof would adjust his cravat
and look down at the behemoth
lolling like Quasimodo on his stool.

'There's nothing like the voice
of a real Son of Erin raised
in approval of my thesis, '
the Prof would say as he nodded
to the barkeep who filled our glasses.