Zakk's Lager Poem by Echezonachukwu Nduka

*
Friday night's gig soured his taste
for apple juices and filled his
glass with cold Carlsberg.
The twenty-fourth glass crowned him
king of all kubulors.

**
The beat drops again and he
stands to dance.
Three steps forward and five
steps backwards; Isn't alcohol
a veteran dance tutor?
He leads the way and off
they go. Pryzm must have more kubulors!

***
Zakk's gait is the evidence of drunken
eyes. But who calls the kubulor king drunk?
Isn't that apocalyptic madness?
In the Kubuloric law of governance
and code of conduct; section one
sub-section c: drunkenness is clarity.