Sitting at my lonely barside
I kneel before the patron saint
Of castaways,
And raise but two fingers.
The peanuts and peasants
Have much in common,
They are roasted, salted,
Glazed with a succor
No sweeter than savage starlight
They serve to compliment
The fine layer of salt
On the rim of my cocktails
The liquor as **** as their company.
This is the rite of reverence
That droops my eyelids
This is the gleaning genuflection
Of the day's stale bread.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 2:55 AM UTC
Sitting at my lonely barside
I kneel before the patron saint
Of castaways,
And raise but two fingers.
The peanuts and peasants
Have much in common,
They are roasted, salted,
Glazed with a succor
No sweeter than savage starlight
They serve to compliment
The fine layer of salt
On the rim of my cocktails
The liquor as **** as their company.
This is the rite of reverence
That droops my eyelids
This is the gleaning genuflection
Of the day's stale bread.
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