Thursday, 9 September 2010

On first looking into The Last Barman Poet

(With apologies to John Keats)
Much have I guzzl'd of Mezcal Gold,
   And many goodly beers and spirits seen;
   Round many spit-and-sawdust dives have I been
Which barflys in fealty to Jack Daniel hold.
Oft of one cocktail bar had I been told
   That short-statur'd Cruise ruled as his demesne;
   Yet did I never drink its Bailey's Cream
Till I heard the Last Barman Poet speak out slurred and bold:
Then I felt like some eater of the pies
   When he's had a pint or ten;
Or like Charles Bukowski when with blood-shot eyes
    He star'd at the paper  - and took up his pen
And look'd at his life through a glass of Rye -
   Silent, at a table in some drinking den.

- Russell J Turner

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