the raucous man,
with the compensation
for whatever you think you
might have to compensate for,
drank too much and smacked
his lips, gorged with schooner’s life.
where do you crawl from little man?
i wanted to punch him in the face nowwho’sgoliathandwho’sthemuppetfuckerfucker? stumbling over stools and soaken floor, he’s bloody, fooled and crying inside, and pity finds disgust’s place so instead
i mulled it over, and i thought, play along and smirk and find a like mind to jeer with