The Working Drunk. Poem by Steven Harris

Just another day for another working man
tired of the grafting he's had to do
sitting at the bar in the local pub
undoing his tie, putting his hat upon the bar and opening
the paper
ordering himself a rum, whiskey and stout
all his plans for the rest of the evening put on hold for
a night of heavy drinking instead
now the man is happy
as the night goes on his head become heavier
drifting slowly toward the bar
drunker and drunker
songs randomly come to his head
and he gathers the rest of the pub into a song
and at 11: 30 after many hours of drinking
smoky and singing it's time to leave
stagger home
bumping into the walls of closed shops
humming to himself an unrecognizable tune
he doesn't even notice the rain pouring on to his hat
or the fact that he might have whiskey breath
when he gets home he will sit down at a table under
the window
and write a poem about his annoying wife
the women he hasn't spoken too for 34 years
the love he has for her though is much too strong
he hopes she's left him his dinner in the oven
and a glass of rum on the fire place
thats the plan he has for when he manages to get
home
the working poet drunk on payday
a happier man then he was yesterday.