Through the feral days and nights
Scraping one another off
Bar floors then sitting staring
Watching the tech wars
Slipping into the zen fog
Complain bitterly or
Laugh haughtily
Such anti imperialist slog
Don't mind that
Don't curse that
Just be at peace and
Drink down yer grog
Scraping and leaning
One into one or another
Fellow at the bar
Prop up that Missus leaning there
Leaning on the wall
She's slipping and groaning
Near falling to the floor
Now drink up that martini
Or highball or lighter brew
Snorting hacking coughing
Even though even now you
You ain't even got a clue
Through the feral days and nights
Cling tight and forget
Forget all about your hope
You haven't got the time for it
Nor the reach or breadth of scope
My friend my enemy my lover and sweet fool
Look that other gent is leering
And beginning to start to drool
Never mind him, oh I see and comprehend
He's buying all the rounds
Then get another drink for free and
Push him to the ground
Push him away and come back to me
Be sure to avoid his drool
Which as you may or might not see
Is beginning to form a pool
Moving through a fog
Complain haughtily
Wince gingerly
We such minor tiny cogs
In the machinery
Laughing bitterly
As we lock one another tightly
Scrape one another up
Let's flee this grisly bar
Come outside and walk
Look longing at the stars
Prop one another up and smile
After all
My place is not so far
By: Daniel Smallegange, copyright, all rights reserved 2026.
