Rookie (9/19/1963)

Killing The Happy Hour - Poem by DAVID GERARDINO

KILLING the happy hour with
your spit and talk, cracking
your fingers like a boxer, then
hitting with your rusty axe,

the niceties are over,
you scream, i want out,
i want out, you heard me
, i want out, but first ill
take another drink.

KILLING the hapy hour with
your spit and talk.

Comments about Killing The Happy Hour by DAVID GERARDINO

  • Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr (10/18/2006 5:59:00 PM)

    Agree with Mr. Murdock...Drinks are much cheeper & th; clientel can be a might testier as they wallow their woe in their whyskey.....Job well done, David'''''''''''''''''FJR (Report)Reply

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  • (10/18/2006 3:38:00 PM)

    Good work Mr. Gerardino! ........flavor of Bukowski.......the line...'cracking your fingers like a boxer'........then hitting with your rusty axe'. They call it happy hour but alot of people who hit the happy hour are depressed and broke. (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Poem Edited: Wednesday, October 20, 2010

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