On Watching Three Old Drinkers

I wrote this poem over thirty five years ago when I was living in Ireland. It’s my second response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics – Character Study


 And whose are these eyes

Sunk in thick-brimming liquid oblivion?

And whose are these mouths,

Uncontrollable rubber bands

Chewing on unspoken words

They spit tastelessly back in the glass?

Leaning in putrid puddles

On mahogany counters of gloom,

Their overwound heads tick-tock on

Like the springs of an open clock

Until closing time,

When their lonely souls

Throw silent shadows in the lamplight.


© Kim M. Russell

On Watching Three Old Drinkers

Image found on www.her.ie



13 thoughts on “On Watching Three Old Drinkers

  1. SAdly.. theRe IS A
    Beer in most country
    western SonGs wheRe
    someone’s daddy tOld
    tHeir little boy..
    Son don’t
    cry that’s
    for Sissies and
    not real men like me..
    with tears of beer
    And SinG
    oF LosT
    LoVe withouT
    A TEar oF wArMth..;)

    Liked by 1 person

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