We're the Ezine dedicated to all things barroom. We are slightly off what others consider the norm and always the last to close the bar. If you prefer the local dive bar to the glitz of some overpriced club then you're our kind of people. So welcome grab a drink and enjoy.
Friday, January 10, 2020
Some Kind Of Victory. By Ian Lewis Copestick
How does wisdom accumulate ?
I don't know, but I really don't think
That it has anything at all to
Do with time. Looking back
I was probably wiser at 12
Years old than I am at 47.
Plus, the older you get, the
More your brain cells die. I'm sure
That I read somewhere once upon
A time that every drag on a
Fag that you have it kills so
Many brain cells. The same
With every alcoholic drink too.
So, not for the first time, I wonder
How on Earth I've managed
To make it past 30.
I'm getting close to 50.
If I make it I will consider it
Some kind of victory.
Ian Lewis Copestick is a 46 year old writer (I prefer that term to poet ) from Stoke on Trent, England. I spend most of my life sitting, thinking then sometimes writing. I have been published in Anti Heroin Chic, the Dope Fiend Daily, Outlaw Poetry, Synchronized Chaos, the Rye Whiskey Review, Medusa's Kitchen and Horror Sleaze Trash.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
It Is What It Is By John Greiner
I’m on my deathbed writing the end of the earth while the usual all and sundry are off to work. Some genius is talking about Rashomon and it...
-
lemonade hair dead and deflated thin like a bleached ghost; mascara rings fat as a star pitcher’s eyeblack; she cracked her broken finger ba...
-
Once he spoke the indirect speech of men, as if making bar bets after third drinks that become sincere, become angry, mean. Just his half jo...
-
Diamond hair Bathe in bourbon and butter You are my Sunday prayer You are everything You are all You are life Rita S. Spalding has had poem...

No comments:
Post a Comment