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Two Drunkards
February 24, 2014
“Life!” he shouted in the air
as if had somehow upset him
“Must mean something more than death!”
He swayed from side to side
leaned on the table
then on the wall.
I heartily agreed with him
raised a glass to his name.
“Now come here, you,” I slurred.
“Sit down, have another.”
He groaned, plopped down
swirled his glass and downed it.
“To love!” A drink.
“To hope!” A drink.
“To the merry, hairy Pope!”
A laugh, a drink.
The chink of glass.
The scotch slopped down my arm.
“Another!” I cried.
“Another!” he sighed.
“To a savior that may save us.”
© Kari S., Mesa, AZ
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