A charming story about who knows what (poem) |
The Selfless Doctor Booze Sits Doctor Booze with his furious ticks, Imbibing his fix at a quarter to six, To neutralise various tremors and shakes, And the shameful disgraces that lie in his wake. He picked up three whores and he bet on a horse, An encore he scored for his second divorce, But the girls weren’t his taste and he lost on the race, A race in which all of his savings were placed. To drink, he felt it an obvious choice, Over time it consumed him and altered his voice, Over time he sat grinning at prim passer by’s, The prim passer by’s that he grew to despise He thinks as he sets about breaking the seal, ‘What kind of crowd will this Saturday deal?’ The girls at the bar serving drinks share the thought, As for now it’s just him, with his winks and his port. Well a few trickle in as the brew trickles out, Of his organ that’s caught in a sexual drought. He can’t get it in for he can’t it get up, A bane he’s maintaining by draining the cup. A boy in his twenties, he enters the spot, With some red in his eyes, with a bag full of pot, And a date he picked up at a vending machine, In a region where folks with the munchies convene. He has earrings, a beard, he has anger and tats And he lives in a flat with the mice and the rats. He deals for a living, with parents neglect, From out of a van that’s indelibly wrecked. So they purchase a portion of mulligan stew, And they head to the table and choose on a cue, But they find it quite tricky to rack up the balls, For their paranoid spirits are scaling the walls. On return Doctor Booze sees two others come in, It’s a couple of men: Alexander and Glynn. Who hold down good jobs, up convenience stores, And hands in their room when Glynn’s down on all fours Their business is booming, their gains never lean So they order martinis and swanky cuisine, As they sit they watch two who are obviously baked The two who just now have accomplished a break. Alexander suggests, ‘we should put down a coin, On that table; they’re game we should certainly join, Although with a cue we can’t play like the gods, Marijuana dramatically alters the odds.’ Glynn took it further, ‘well look to the side, If we’re smart we can win something more than just pride, His bag I assume holds a deluge of drugs, We could steal it and sell it to gullible thugs!’ Indeed, Alexander’s a confidence man, And their handshake confirms the iniquitous plan But do not forget Doctor Booze as he spies, Their strides to the couple with red in their eyes. But he thinks nothing of it, he burps and he pervs, On the bar tender fixed with the prettiest curves. So sick of his hideous wandering gaze, She spikes the next port with an off mayonnaise. She sees once she’s pulled off her devilish ploy, Alexander extending an arm round the boy, The former is laughing, the latter is not, The date’s bending over and taking her shot. The other is squatting quite close to a bag But then the boy calls Alexander a ‘fag’. Glynn throws a punch but the boy breaks a cue, The ice, and Glynn’s leg with the point of his shoe. The boy tells his date she should get out and run, When he sees Alexander is pointing a gun, So out of the bar screaming ‘help’ runs the girl, Not wanting to see how the showdown unfurls. The boy holds the fragmented cue to Glynn’s throat, And threatens to do what a man does a goat, ‘Put the gun down or you’ll never again, Have the chance to make love to your hideous friend!’ The commotion is lost on the drunk with the port, For the mayo is causing his guts to contort. As Glynn wrestles free with a punch and a chew, The drunk Doctor Booze is in need of a spew Or the spiked Doctor Booze, which whatever the case, He stands and he stumbles with limited grace. Between the Mexican standoff he dives, And is shot in the heart whilst the stoner survives. During this time the police have been called By the date, how she wept, how she screamed, how she balled! The cops and the ambulance speed to the scene, And the criminals see that their chances are lean. Alexander and Glynn are arrested on sight They are recognised fugitives, nine weeks in flight, And the boy has his bag overturned for a search, In a week, by a judge he will gloomily perch. And so what about the deceased Doctor Booze? His deeds are discussed on the nine o clock news. He isn’t remembered for being a bum, But a national hero instead he’s become! |