Time To Go Home Poem by Donald R Wolff JR

Blame for I, Then point Ye trigger finger
Give this one doggie a bone
Wayfaring away from my tone of laughter
Hate me 'Terri' babysitting our children alone

Salty young roaster eating spaghetti
Be weary when meatballs move on their own
Still, so clear this old river water
Smooth as stone-gut, cooking at home

Merely a pittance for a room full of lies
Surly reflection glares from a window
So many spiders talking about business
Why do they speak from darken, deep holes

I believe it is favored to halt with the whisky
My keys bartender, 'I know'
Tonight a chamber pot will make for good company
One more and time to go home

(03/27/2023)