Common is as common does By Peter A. Witt

They call me a common drunk,

but I object, indeed I drink too much,

but common, for real? I am unique

in my demeanor, classy in my downing

of what some say are too many fingers

of low-priced scotch, with a beer chaser

just for good measure. I am polite beyond 

expectations, smile at people’s jokes,

funny or not, usually the latter, and full

of compliments, even when not deserved.

So, common, no, I am special and unique,

proud and loud, vain without disdain for those

who can’t hold their liquor, let alone their opinions,

which I find simply common, something I surely

am not. So, call me a drunk, vilify my appearance,

but never, ever, never call me common!

Peter A. Witt is a Texas Poet and a retired university professor. He also writes family history with a book about his aunt (Edith’s War) published by the Texas A&M Press. His poetry has been published on various sites including Verse-Virtual, Fleas on the Dog, Live Encounters, Inspired, The Rye Whiskey Review, Open Skies Quarterly, Active Muse, and New Verse News. He's been twice nominated for Best of the Net.