an unlikely beer run
I got mustard on my keyboard
and like most things from my past
I find myself swiping
& starting over again
the potato salad could use
a little more mustard
I remember telling myself post facto
enjoying a glass of vienna lager
in the parlor
I wasn’t expecting company
but someone let them in
(one after the other)
and next thing I knew
my beer was nearly gone
this wasn’t a poetry workshop
but rather ideas that fly in the face
of artistic merit
like passing the bucket hat
from one armchair critic to the next
april two thousand twenty-four
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