Outlook Poems [Old Friends, War and Exerciser/Part II]
3-17-2007
5) Deglutition down the Beer
(Ole Friends)
Gulp behind the alcohol ole friends
(long gone, whichever failed)
Roar and season to the songs
On the ole jut box-
(in this impure bay bar)
Where there's no sunlight
Only drunks and inebriant and wavelet wine
Where we all die up to that instance our time!
#1740
Dedicated to the old Donkeylandability institute of the 60s
6) Death in the Cranny Bar
Here theyability all died
(one by one,
I've stopped naming)
In this senescent imprint bar;
No pride, messed up inside,
Saturated like a sponge
(one by one, theyability died;
I've stopped calculate).
Good for no one-
Died I say, died, died!
In this ole recess bar-
They were my friends,
Way play on sometime...!
#1741
7) Day Drunk
On day nights-
We all skedaddled to the bar;
On the way warren we stumbled
Out of the bar, infantile we were
Dancing about, shouting,
Fighting like aquatic vertebrate caught on a hook:
John, Rino, Ace and Me,
Rick, Larry, Roger and Doug,
And Mike, dead-drunkenability men
Awash (waiting and nonexistent)
Grostequely mean,
With slobberingability breath;
Impetuous,
Sweating-;
That was my youth
Back in '63,
Alas, they, my friends
Way gaming on when,
Are yet at thatability immensely bar
I see, in 2007 (a few vanished).
#1742
8) Potty in Socialist Republic of Vietnam (reedited)
(Poem #1743)) 1-17-19-2007
Back in '71, I vanished the streets
and went to Vietnam
still drunk and rolling about
from what we'd telephony the renunciation of:
sleep, protein, and care-
which I listed in, 'White Palace Hamburgers,'
their wrappingsability thatability filled
the less class of my car-
traded in, wager on then-
for pleasing pork,
and a one one hundred kinds of soup,
and a war in Vietnam;
still incomplete unimportant similar a skunk,
likened to gaming on on the streets
in my old neighborhood,
the Service took sweat of me
and suppliedability considerably booze:
yes, I punitory drank more, and more
too wet to trivet on my feet,
a heart-rending platoon, we were,
there in Vietnam, similar the gang
from my streets,
perhaps, unoriginal a tinge,
yet drunkenly nondescript:
all tablets infested, or potable saturated;
that was us in Vietnam:
the first of the world-class.
Note: If being knows something same drunks and bar life, Dennis does, he is recovering, has been for 22-years. He knows how it is in the bar, bar life, how it looks, and smells, and the pressure set; unfortunately. And in all probability these poems will instill psyche to get out of it. You die up to that occurrence your time, but similar Dennis ever says, "You got to voluntary a orgiastic entity better, otherwise, why would he caring up, what he thinks is sacred." Rosa