Wednesday, October 5, 2016
I am not drunk, but sometimes I stumble.
I am not blotto, but sometimes I slur my words.
I am not hammered, but sometimes I get confused.
I am not smashed, wasted, or three sheets to the wind,
But I am in the mood to sing something tragic,
And sad and slightly off-key and out on the porch
With my trusty Squared Eel* and a flagon
Of Diet A&W Root beer and a cheese sandwich.
I should not watch the presidential debates
It's like watching Hitler and Stalin slug it out
And wondering who to root for.
And it only serves to remind me that finally,
The devil has come to claim his due.
I wonder do you have to play the banjo
To see it all for what it is - a rotten Hobson's choice?
And either way we're screwed,
......and no one's going to buy us dinner first.
© 2016 by Tom King
* A type of homemade banjo