Outlook Poems [Old Friends, War and Bars/Part II]
3-17-2007
5) Gulp down the Beer
(Ole Friends)
For instance:Morton Feldman Says: Selected Interviews and Lectures 1964-1987 (New
Allie Aller's Crazy Quilting: Modern Piecing & Embellishing
Brief Interventions for Radical Change: Principles and Practice of
The Bar and Beverage Book Hardcover
Gulp downbound the brewage ole friends
(long gone, several dying)
Roar and spring to the songs
Some articlesOn the ole jut box-
(in this grungy alcove bar)
Where there's no sunlight
Only drunks and brewage and rippling wine
Where we all die since our time!
#1740
Dedicated to the old Donkeyland gang of the 60s
6) Death in the Corner Bar
Here they all died
(one by one,
I've stopped as well as)
In this ageing corner bar;
No pride, messed up inside,
Saturated similar to a sponge
(one by one, they died;
I've stopped together with).
Good for no one-
Died I say, died, died!
In this ole country bar-
They were my friends,
Way posterior when...!
#1741
7) Payday Drunk
On payday nights-
We all skedaddled to the bar;
On the way surroundings we stumbled
Out of the bar, childish we were
Dancing about, shouting,
Fighting resembling fish caught on a hook:
John, Rino, Ace and Me,
Rick, Larry, Roger and Doug,
And Mike, dead-drunken men
Awash (waiting and wanting)
Grostequely mean,
With slobbering breath;
Impetuous,
Sweating-;
That was my youth
Back in '63,
Alas, they, my friends
Way rear when,
Are nonmoving at that same bar
I see, in 2007 (a few left).
#1742
8) Drunk in Vietnam (reedited)
(Poem #1743)) 1-17-19-2007
Back in '71, I larboard the streets
and went to Vietnam
still intoxicated and tumbling about
from what we'd hail as the scarcity of:
sleep, protein, and care-
which I listed in, 'White Castle Hamburgers,'
their wrappings that filled
the lower rank of my car-
traded in, rear then-
for saltish pork,
and a one hundred kinds of soup,
and a war in Vietnam;
still partly pie-eyed similar to a skunk,
likened to hindmost on the streets
in my old neighborhood,
the Army took trouble of me
and supplied more booze:
yes, I lately drank more, and more
too inebriated to stand on my feet,
a heart-breaking platoon, we were,
there in Vietnam, like the gang
from my streets,
perhaps, unemotional a tinge,
yet drunkenly nondescript:
all medication infested, or intoxicant saturated;
that was us in Vietnam:
the best of the influential.
Note: If someone knows active 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 be bothered set; sadly. And probably these poems will inspire soul to get out of it. You die earlier your time, but like Dennis ever says, "You got to propose a orgiastic something better, otherwise, why would he distribute up, what he thinks is respectable." Rosa