A Poem t’ Newcastle Brown

Here – floatin’ – ish-whiffs
of desiccated weed on a
glass neck – of iffy-sniffs
of dope & somethin’s – of
beer’s belly-round settles
I prefer a bottle of Newci
because our local pumps
are n’ swilld thrugh – see –
look at my remains there
[shy b’low] an obtuse polo
mint seat – relief is clipp’d
& wiped – flushin’ m’ recall
w/out looking down again!