Poem

Sometimes I drink to warn off the nerves
And that’s OK
No matter what people think

There’s a dog in the sky
I wonder what he’s doing up there

looks friendlier than a man down here
walking on the cement,
within reach of a wooded path,
narrowing thought into splinters to speak
of what is and what should be, while his slippers
shed off pebbles entering his footings

this beer is just nice enough to have another
and to continue on about the man in slippers
who know’s everything about how to live

and how not to drink

Dog is leaving now
head removed itself
from body