Welcome, My Friend

Sit where you'd like. I'll fix you a drink.
It's late enough, isn't it? Let's say it is.
Let's let our old friend, ethanol, lighten
Our hearts while our stomachs are empty.
Who needs the food? What we want are
High spirits, bad jokes, misbehavior;
Decorum dispensed with. Let chaos ensue,
And, if evening's festivities run until dawn,
And our heads hurt like hell when we wake up
At noon, we won't mind. We are grown-ups,
Bloodied, unbowed, reconciled to paying
Our bills.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 52 times
Written on 2020-09-26 at 01:00

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