May 31st, 2009

a pint on tap

Here’s the second of my five poems on leaving Dublin, where I’ve lived for the past 11 years. Sort of.

Two days ago now,
I left the tap on.
After half an hour
I discovered this.

Yesterday, bad too:
I burnt a pan black —
I’d forgot that too.

Last night, drunk and blue,
“forgot” to say “bye”
or “I’m leaving now”.
Feeling selfish, I,
not digging the tunes,
stole to a taxi —
asocial baboon.

Now that time is here:
Groceries have dates,
usually on top,
that are redundant
(I’ll be gone by then).
For example: beer.

But a pint on tap
is for drinking now,
or for drinking then.
“Goodbye Dublin town!”,
I might burp and say,
if I’d know that pint
were the last I may.

But, instead, I’m dumb;
It’s become my way.


1 Comment »

Comment by Aengus
  • Fantastic!

    June 1, 2009 @ 4:41 pm
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