#2,509 A golden pint pulled

A golden pint pulled &
stood –
ready to sink &
be found waiting on a

refill via cleaned pipes
by a grubbing barman
who ‘cannot be arsed’ –

auld boys hover bar-&-
stool-stiff by a littering
of emptied snack bags

as a miserable dog sits
between shoe-shuffled
points of view –
I met a

brace of men I knew –
stood odd couple –
a few words

metaphorical cocks] & I
withdrew to my snug of
flattened ale
[a floating

halo of Harvey’s] –
our retreat uphill to our
next homeward-set pub

of less grubbed bar-girls
[ale-weight of fantasies
rub us boozed-minded]