It’s dry between the drops, and yet
I’m wet behind the ears.
Do not wait for beer with hops
or men with insincere cheers.
Laugh and play (if that’s your way)
But I’ll have none of it this bleary day.
Bloody rotten apple cores
where do you get off with your wanton snores?
Your gaping whores- your closed doors!
Sunshine biscuits eat their way
from your belly
like a fist through jelly.
(© Stacy Fisher, October 10th, 1979)
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED