The Beer Poet

Me and my drink
we sit here
in this corner-- this
darkened edge
of the dim-light endlessness
at the "yonder" end of the bar.
Me and my drink
sit and look out
at the nest:
the pool-table liars,
the stupors,
the "go home alone" chicks.
Me and my drink
we think
how terrible to see such a mess.
Me and my drink
we don't get along
so i kill it and
order another one.
Me and the drink
we sit, we curse,
we swear at the bums,
and assholes, and dicks,
then me and the drink
we clink,
in cheer of our freedom
from all the nuns and whores
that trapped us before.
Me and the drink
become lonely
so I kill it,
and order yet another one.
Then the drink and me
stare into the sea
of nuts and idiot scum,
the tits an asses
now distant as gold
below nothing but giggles
and shine.
The drink and me
gloom darkened
fog on the thoughts
of the good times
so far in the past,
the drink and me
are drunk
we don't give a fuck
so i kill it,
and order one more.
My drink and it's drunk
stare into the bar
ten million miles away
my drink and its drunk
have nothing left to say.
My drink sees the drunks
how pretty they are
how totally empty
but beautiful still.
My drink sees the drunks
and I see how lonely I am.
My drink and its drunk
have seen quite enough.
My drink pays the can
it's drunk pays the tab
here we go into the smiling night,
with a warm tear in my eye
goodnight.