Alcoholism

October 27, 2014

Half a world away
I stumbled into
An old brew-hall
Covered in neon signs
In some foreign language
And lo and behold
At the bar
With his dusty boots
Upon the brass rail
Sat my oldest friend
I walked up
And grabbed a stool
Next to him,
The bar-stool Prophet
Before I could order
My usual pint
He turned to me
Smiled and said:
“I’ve been on the road
More years than you’ve
Been a being,
The only constant
I’ve found
From here
To Kalamazoo
Is watering holes
full of me and
My brothers”

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