The Local

Poem from the 1968 anthology It’s World That Makes The Love Go Round. This was made up of poems from Breakthru poetry magazine.

The Local

Middle-aged and paunched
Bespectacled and merry
He perches upon his regular pint
Sized stool withing the Red
Forever flowing Lion and commences to
Pronounce with slurred absurdly confident
Unknown fact upon some subject
About which he knows absolutely nothing;
And attended to by the entire
Entirely sozzled company with
Their ears and hear hears he raises
Once again his glass up to his
Slurping lips, and with it up goes the level
of the world’s prejudice
And slops down upon the under spirit
Floor where ignorance is bliss
’tis folly to be wise,
While outside, the earnest nervous
Trembling truth teller
Is sitting at the door begging
For the unforthcoming money
For a drink
And wasting his young so
Sober wind upon
Their randy brandy breaths.

Nicholas Caulfield






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