Bar Language




There is a place in my soul that bursts with words.
Useless I find it!
How is ‘Well done!” or “Marvelous”
Expressed
In a place where the reaction
Is “Fucking A!”
Politics; sport; and horses
Bursting to the Belmont:
A triple crown
Of conversation
Lost to the winner
With the loudest voice.
“Slam dunk”
Is now a way to go to war:
And ‘Crusade” a word to avoid.
‘Tiger” is not a feline
And most have forgotten
That tiger was a threat
When Kipling wrote.
With words that stole the soul.
And acknowledged Gungha Din.

But Kipling, and his Gungha Din
Are dead today.
And Servis, Owens, Hemingway.
Tennyson I guess is past.
Frost, I know would be appalled
In London Square
Jack can be called
To fight the fight and that they did!
To help the fight
They used their words

If someone else again today
Could pick up rifle, pen and verb.
Not, Monday, quarterback and say
‘Good move” “He’s worth it…Fucking A!”

There is a place within my soul…