in his cups

I’m writing a poem with feelsies
with meter and rhyming for realsies
just kidding – no Seuss here
just downing my sad beer
no green eggs and ham for your mealsies

tried writing at night once while drinking
the heart – disconnected from thinking
instead, fell asleep
found the verses would keep
At daybreak can try more unlinking

I fear that you’ll read this and worry
“MY GOSH, all his words have gone slurry!”
but I’m well in control
with my cereal bowl
morning thoughts are most always less blurry

so good day to you all, my dear friends
this poor series of Limericks ends
maybe Frank will enjoy
while the rest I annoy
today I will make no amends.



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