Untitled #80

I almost never turn down a drink
This is my chief virtue as a friend
I figure, this is the least I can do for the downtrodden farmers of America with their famine-riven land
so that if I wake up every morning two days closer to the grave
I can be satisfied that calamity has been averted
My minor indulgences are but penance for sad, sober humanity
but I do not seek recognition or the warm wishes of virgin daughters
Their quiet struggle in the wake of improbable odds is reward enough
for this fat drunk