NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY

I stand altered at the altar of the discount gods
Wild Turkey and Old Crow
set back only six greenbacks
for an ounce and an ale
amidst wrecked tins of Bomb Draught
and cream ale by Genesee
sweeter than Hennessy
feeling full blessed by fate full moveless
my pocket spared some heft
and I double fisted, alternating sips
till my eyes misted over trivial quips
— dewed, dripped, poured and monsooned

the flood done come on soon
Turkey and Crow both turned to foe
and I pissed my beers in a flood of tears

by: scratchin' menace + lucky genius