Old sot he is, drunk of drunks,
professional proper up of bars,
jars, jugs of, pints of ale, chased
down with a tot or two or three
or maybe half-full glass of warming whisky.
He smiles that inebriated smile he smiles,
guile he has, animated, bothers others,
other patrons with his drunken idle chatter,
slurring each and every word.
They’ve heard it all before,
his inane views on world affairs,
how his wife bleeds him of each and every penny,
so skint is he, so stony-broke,
hasn’t any coins to rub together,
pours out his empty grasping heart.
They know his game and play it,
just to get rid of him,
buy him another pint, tell him “Now fuck off!”
He laughs out loud, slaps their backs.
“Cheers mates!” he grins as he swills down
another dose of that lovely golden nectar.
He is not done yet,
watches eagle-eyed as others leave,
checks their glasses, downs the dregs,
smiling smugly as if he has won some clever game.
Bar emptying, he gathers up the glasses
hoping for a freebie for his effort,
but now so unsteady, he falls,
smashes glasses as he hits the floor.
The barman (now pockets full enough)
finally chucks him out.
He staggers out, smug and happy, singing loudly, heading home.
At home his family wait,
shivering in their frightened bodies,
quivering in their troubled minds,
fear showing in their blackened eyes…
they never win his mindless drunken games.
He always wins.
Brenda (cheers Brenda) at The Sunday Whirl has us writing using the following words: Bar, check, animated, wait, loud, laugh, drunk, queen, eagles, family, win & hearts. (I must admit to being naughty as I didn’t use ‘queen’ - as I would have had to force it in.)
Also shared with the good folk at Poets United, hosted by Mary – cheers Mary!
Image: Courtesy of Pexels.