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