Poem #2,753 | Laughing Fish

In this pub I’m disconnected
by wifi & other shortcomings
& so am alone [my foam-rich
pint my upright friend] – chat
rattles on a full table – kids at
lunch with their mothers – all
others have given distance to
them – a rage of log-heat tips
my eyes to that heavier side –
I don’t do afternoon boozing
well any longer – a small dog
gazes fondly at me [& I could
weep with loss] – a pub spew
of unpublishable beer words