Swig Of This Poem by marc molchan

Swig Of This

Swig of this

Monday always Monday rain or shine

to be with you so kind

rush order hasty taste of the year

sunny side up to favorite bar

seek whench ale or car

look all around whatever are took

pile for pile frequently fake

in the midst of it all a heavenly stake

greasers corporate violate bevel

only one can learn sweple swivel

honour makes best to some too true

lanyard gives rest a bum his brew

like you you're plate fires' settle

and trouble the bettle

but amoung friends honestly bake

and tend to the rake

and fence regretal

lovely thee hour our mist

knock on wood sense of shame

kidneys pot to drain

clear brooke water peeble find

us not quarry but calm

amoungst hills afar peaks

kindred mouths are together

what can one do for a dime or a lieu

without respect of a gangster

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
how I describe the bar tavern
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