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E D Phillips

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Sobriety's Not What it Used to be
by E D Phillips → (All Poetry by E D Phillips)
   Rated "G" by the Author.
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Jail can be a freeing experience...


Poem Artwork

Sobriety’s not what it used to be

There once was a time when I hung out in bars
And I drank till my mind overflowed
And I blithered and blathered
And shivered and slathered
Then left with one for the road.

On one occasion most inauspicious
The hand of the law caught me cold
They hauled me to jail
Without any bail
And threw away the key with the mold.

Ah yes, I paid a king’s ransom
To escape doing months of hard time
And I walked for a year
With my rear in low gear
A fair price for doing the crime.

Thirty years later now I’m still sober
And quicker of wit some would say
Still a blue flashing light
In the still of the night
Reminds me of that other day.

One night they again pulled me over
And asked me if I had been drinking
“Not this century,” I replied
More like Jekyll than Hyde
It wasn’t what he had been thinking.

“Count backwards from 100” said he
“And I’ll tell you when you can stop.”
“99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93
Now what am I offered
To sing like Joan Crawford
Tweedle dum tweedle dum tweedle dee?”

The handcuffs were tight in the chill of the night
As I hit the back seat of his cruiser
But I continued to count
As my retirement account
Fell to zero just like a boozer.
 

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 Reviews of "Sobriety's Not What it Used to be"
Reviewed by DM Yates (Reader)
Reviewed on October 14, 2013
You have a marvelous sense of humor in your poetry. Well done, my friend. This one says so much.

Reviewed by Ed Matlack
Reviewed on September 10, 2013
One Christmas day I went to work, feeling fine, then I got to work and started to be sick, flowing from both ends & had to go home...on my way home I was stopped by the State Police in a Christmas day DUI sting...I was freezing and wouldn't open my car window more than a crack...I told the cop I didn't drink anymore and was sick enough to puke on him right there...he thought I was kidding and continued to talk to me, so I did...hope he enjoyed my breakfast the second time...what does this have to do with your poem, nothing, just a memory I guess that rambled out of an old mans thoughts...e (enjoyed your write, Ed)

Reviewed by Ronald Hull
Reviewed on September 10, 2013
I like the image of them throwing away the key and the mold. Never again to open your cell, I'm told.

And the last two stanzas… A real downer. Was it age profiling?

Ron

Reviewed by Annabel Sheila
Reviewed on September 10, 2013
Giggle...crime doesn't pay, my friend...this was cute...thanks for the smiles...

Anna

Reviewed by Jansen Estrup
Reviewed on September 10, 2013
Thanks for the ^&d.k(* memories. Mine were in Arkansas, arrested in a 1960 speed trap in a town whose 'jail' was an alley park bench. Waited there in the middle of the night while the only cop rousted the Justice of the Peace who fined me $16 I didn't have. What were they going to do with me? Sent me on my way with a promise to pay come Monday when I could get to my bank. Cleverly done, Edward, and a very dangerous thing these days, to know how to count backwards, or what century we live in.

Reviewed by E Phillips
Reviewed on September 9, 2013
Lark: I admit to having taken poetic license with the actual facts in the second half of this rhyme. The truth was far more outrageous but not nearly as funny. (I was charged with doing 51 mph in a 30 mph zone with my cruise control on and set to 30 mph). Now we know that not all the stupid cops are in Arkansas.

Reviewed by Lark Pogue
Reviewed on September 9, 2013
You know, law enforcement people aren't usually smart enough to appreciate your intelligent humor, that's why they do what they do. That was a horrid experience, but hilarious write.
L

Reviewed by Chip Bergeron
Reviewed on September 9, 2013
Sorry to hear about your unfortunate experience. Its not fun hearing the steel doors clang shut behind you, I know. I hope it was more "just visiting," so to speak than having the keys thrown away on you.

Hang in there

Chip Bergeron




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