Once upon a time,
he was a shaman for his people,
Now he lay on the pavement,
Shwasted and ossified,
Fossilized and bloached,
Hosed, lampshaded and munted,
Where was he from?
Torqued and turped,
So honkeyed and pished,
He never got sea legs,
Only Scunnered, shellacked, and sea captained,
Thunder hawked, thunder beared,
With the all that thunderbird bottled,
Dancing on the ceiling,
Snuteful, guppard, whaled,
And knackered,
All the meaning,
Written off,
Blitzed, he was full as a tick,
Ginned up and mustached,
Cucumbered and dickard,
Forgotten about,
Plastered, phasered, and paralytic,
The sauce monster,
Shikkered, shnotchered, and soaked,
Drunk as a skunk,
Embalmed, and sloshy,
He lay there,
His fault for sure,
No responsibility,
That store has no liability-
-
Author:
Blue Dental Squirrel (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 19th, 2018 11:02
- Comment from author about the poem: Down to booze dismissal
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 43
Offline)
Comments2
They DO say you have to hit rock I bottom before you take the cure.
I wonder whether this person was the addictive type personality or did a terrible set of circumstance set them off on to this downward spiral?
What a poem that would make.
Actually had a few scary liquor experience- now a Peyotist for life
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