deepundergroundpoetry.com

A Recurring Expedition

He strutters each morning to his habitual watering hole,
Sharply inhaling invigorating air to stir frail limbs,
Along by unsightly cuboid buildings and youth-residing pathways,
His journey a recurring expedition to add numb spice to long days,
Greetings expressed to fellow drinking comrades as he arrives at the door,
Rubbing knarled hands to maintain warmth against the chilled wind,
Eyes showing glee at the chinking of the bolts being unlocked,
His shifts impatient feet into his warm inviting temple.

He gravitates moth-like to the timber nectar bank adjacent to him,
His snaked tongue moistens chafed lips as the dark elixir fills the glass,
Fixated for a suspended moment, he contemplates the pint-formed malt in front of him,
A long drag creates a curl of a smile to the edge of his quivering mouth,
Nerves are soothed; dim relaxation is allowed to envelope him,
Oblivious to the other comrades spread sparsely around,
Content in self-solitude and induced anaesthesia,
He reminisces backwards to more cheerful times.
Remembering his now deceased best friend and wife Mary;
cruelly snatched from him by body ravaging cancer,
Late night concocted plans of retirement were discarded
along with her ashes into the oscillating waves of the sea.
Recalling how he once secretly liked the admiring glances of
young ladies seeing him in the military uniform he wore many years ago,
Childhood piano singalongs with long-departed relatives enter his mind.
Lamenting that he never knew that life would frizzle out like this.

Now drifting phantom-like through an aimless reason-devoid life,
Deviating his actions only negligibly from day to day,
Numbed from a concoction of alcohol, daytime television and fond memories,
Visiting this liquid comfort house a solitary reason to rise in the morning,
An opportunity to slightly alter reality for the beginning of another homogenous day.
Last of the ebony beverage swishes down his gullet; indistinct longing occurs,
He progresses towards the compassionate eyes of the barmaid for another pacifier.
Written by stryder
Published
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