happy-hour confab

happy-hour confab

 

uglied by age and profanity

wasted by infirmities

laughing loud at half-heard

‘booze talk’ wisecracks

as if they found them funny

a pride of spent grey ‘stallions’

sits braying of days

when they roared like the lions

they wanted to be

 

they were hunters of maidens -

maidens enjoyed

maidens discarded -

love warriors with rubbers

(ribbed for extra pleasure) -

to show they cared -

untouched in wallet ticket-pockets

 

lads they were

lads at drink

lads at play

lads at lassies

 

monkey business

 

their salt-cream fountains

sustaining the species...

 

remember?

remember?

 

what they don’t remember

they make out they do

 

harking back to a dream-time

before sappy love-wands dried

and hearts slowly calcified

 

hopeful blue pills

lie fallow in

wallet pockets now

 

remember ?

remember?

 

a former vicar’s holding forth

emboldened

I dive into the banter.

 

 

 

◄ last sitting

in a Leamington Spa pub ►

Comments

Rick

Sun 16th Feb 2020 11:21

Thanks all, I have substantially edited and revised it (see above) - keeping the same mood but, I think, improving it - I was not happy with it - there again I'm never happy with anything I write 😃

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John Coopey

Fri 14th Feb 2020 23:00

"And the older I get the better I was".

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Tom

Fri 14th Feb 2020 17:29

Brilliant and your euphemisms really made me smile. This bit really stood out too - "grey stallions / stand recounting days / when they roared like the lions / they wanted to be".

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keith jeffries

Fri 14th Feb 2020 15:28

Rick,

An amusing poem which takes the reader directly into the scene. Many true words are also spoken not to mention some good humour.

Thank you for this

Keith

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