Tim Peeler, Old Man Poems

Tim Peeler

I was running a joint
When I was forty-five,
Sipping whiskey all evening,
Tending the bar
And talking to the drunks,
And what I said
Began to make sense to me
So that I soon thought that
My intelligence might be more
Than my job required,
That I might be too good
For what I was doing.
Next thing you know,
I started to resent
The time I spent
In the service of other drunks,
And I neglected them
Or talked down to them
Or only thought of them
As sounding boards
For my brilliant ideas
Till one night, a sailor
In town on leave
Had enough of my opinions
And punched me hard
In the face
And I crumpled like a spider
In the floor behind the bar.
When I was forty-five
I ran a joint
Out by the river.
It was the year that I got smart.

3 thoughts on “Tim Peeler, Old Man Poems

  1. I always enjoy reading a poem about becoming alive or should I say “awake.” Clearly you are an enlightened soul. I love this poem!

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