Time, Whisky and Friends

As if overstaying

My fragile welcome

Were not enough

I had to fall

Off the wagon again;

Fall so hard I missed my

Leaving-thunder train

By a pocketful of hours.

Now I’m buying

Time, whisky and friends

In a lock-in bar, while,

Outside, in the sodium lit fog

Two hog-jockeys and

A crooked lawman

Take it out of the

Latest version of my god.

Ghost of the Big man

Blows tears through his

Angel horn, like he always did:

Truth is a pale, poor story.


8 thoughts on “Time, Whisky and Friends

  1. Chatty Owl says:

    It’s like watching your life through a plastic bag – in a distorted, unclear way. Beautiful and sad.

  2. This is excellent. Your last line is a keeper. It’s not easy to write like this but keep the readers attention but you kept mine. loved it

  3. wisejourney says:

    Excellent . . . I sensed you have talked of that wagon before. The last line is so powerful. Why do I feel that you whip these pieces off . .my poetic bones feel dry

    • beeseeker says:

      Nothing wrong with your bones and thanks as always for your supportive feedback.
      “Falling off the wagon,” (perhaps you already know) means getting hopelessly drunk … and intending to stay that way. Think it refers in some way to a pledge made by teetotallers back in history.

  4. Right here is the right site for anybody who wishes to find out about
    this topic. You understand a whole lot its almost tough to argue with you (not that I really would want to…HaHa).
    You definitely put a new spin on a topic that has been written about for many years.
    Excellent stuff, just great!

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