big town blues (i) — up the kriek

there are
in the reports of the great
beer critics

super brews
noted the best in the world
rightly

and the ordinary
sold like cuttle
ordinary

and in the poetry
clattering around like undercarriage
there are names

the ordinary
why does prose use the special
poetry the ordinary

kirin my arse
i’m invading the verbiage empire
stealing geuze

seeking blonde
in the boot of my lies
& gorgonzola

for the smell
that was supposed to be golden charles
my foot

it’s not the ads
their Fear and Loathing
their Fortified Fluff

it’s the intensity
yes the sensual intensity
the flavour’s the dance

hey poets here’s a €7 note
of course it’s a €7 note
it says so there

where i wrote it