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Apr 2018
Oft too a flyer.


Thrown to the wolves as lions approach,
Never just left alone.
Kicked out of the club for being too drunk,
The ghosts have stolen your phone.


In this midnight hour a traffic cone,
Is thrown through a greenhouse window, waking up the neighbourhood.
They all see you walking back home;
“He’s up to no good.”


Cans on strings as letters of complaint leap,
Along the local grapevine.
Playing the telephone game, muggle messages,
They all watch and pass a guilty verdict; eye for an eye.
You stand accused of drinking legal beer.
Social complaints against late night cheer.


Revelry is not welcome here,
At the cul-de-sac at the end of the road of fear.
So scared of youth because envy gets old.
So cold to you because you smile like a fool.
So angry!  About nothing.
The rain pours down, feel water proof.
So pointless to have a conversation,
When you are thirty five percent proof.


The drunk is a punk to conservative ways.
They would never be that drunk in their day.


They only ever drank every time they got paid
And every day is now a liquid lunch.
Do you remember an Irish coffee breakfast,
After the after hour’s club?
Now a fine brandy, a sherry or two when visiting;
Or are you so drunk you are still misremembering?


I am righteous!  Pride takes me to church!
To drink the blood and fall asleep
And because whiskey is the only thing that gets you forward,
You lurch!
And stumble over all the pews.
You end with an almighty crash!  


Make up, slapdash,
You landed at the altar and got up to say “I do.”
You got in your car and now you are so sure;
Oh so sure, that you are pure.
You are better than they are…
Really?...
You?


And later as you blow into the straw,
You realise you are not so sure,
That you can see a way out of this.
Why not arrest them!  Instead of me!
Those stupid drunken kids!
They vandalize and disturb my peace!
What about me!  I never did a thing!
I only had a glashh or six (laughs)
And there wasn’t a…er, a lasting damage.


I’m not a drunk!
I think!
I think…

I think I love you…


What place is this...?
Where am I...?
Hey!  
Who are you!  To arrest me!  For being drunk!


The following day, you wake up and say…

What time is it?

Excuse me officer…
What day is this?

It’s Tuesday.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Aa Harvey
Written by
Aa Harvey
346
   arizona
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