Wild Geese in the WestBirds know all about the blues.
That’s why they never stop
mid-air to consider
what they’re doing there.
They would truly drop
like ducks diving to the bottom
of a river of whiskey, never to come up.
How little I know is what I think about
out on this porch
plucking at a banjo I can barely play sober
and a dog that mopes at me
whether I've been drinking or not