The Drunk's Philosophy

We sat in the corner drinking beers.
You had a few,
I had a few . . .

If only we could sit discussing
These men,
Men like ourselves, but sober,

Until morning,
till all mornings rowed past
Wearing plastic rain coats,

Mounted on rubber ducks
All in a row.
If God is dead,

Where did the duck come from?
If it were my raincoat,
Is morning only murder for it?

Taking your hat off the stand,
Your coat, your galoshes,
You kiss the barmaid sloppily good-night

And wade out the door
(forgetting your umbrella)
Into the seizing rain and I realize

The only truth to be bought
This night is:
I drink, therefore I am.

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