i drink
the ladies at work
and i have a running joke
when i leave
they tell me to have one
for them when i get home
and i tell them i’ll have many
they all know i drink
but i don’t think they believe
i drink as much as i say i do
and i don’t know why
i’ve chosen to tell them
typically i hate the kind
that brags about booze
it must be because i grew up fat
and i’m always looking
for some kind of attention from women
that i opened my mouth in the first place
i can’t help myself
but still i don’t think those women
believe me
they probably think i go home
and my wife and i drink one beer
then soda and that we talk about all
of the babies we’re going to have
they tell me i’m too nice
to go home and drink so much
and i know they think i’m nice
because i don’t talk a lot at work
and when i do it’s
usually some kind of joke
the ladies tell me that when
i do have a drink
they bet i’m probably a funny drunk
i like those ladies
i’m mean they’re wrong about me
i’m a massive drunk
i probably drink more in a night
then they do in a month
beer, scotch, and red wine
i take on all comers
but they are right about one thing
i am funny when i drink
i’m such a goddamned riot
that i make myself sick.
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2 comments:
hey drunk poet, how you doing? i was just googling for a bukowski's poem, dumb night, and i ended up here.
i thought i should let you know.
Jo, sorry to disappoint you by having you end up here. hmmm, wonder how that happened?
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