Beers

A poem by The Town Drunk
Exclusive to the FFD

I THINK that I shall never hear, 
of a drink more lovely than a beer.
 
A beer whose frothy foam is best
Savored while gawking at passing breasts;
 
A beer that helps me worship the porcelain god’s all day,
And lifts her foamy hops to spray;
 
A beer that may when teams do score
Knock rooting drunkards to the floor;
 
Upon whose empties many get lain;
By beer-goggling John to get intimate with Jane.

Poems are made by drunks and larks,
But only a beer can make me snarf.

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