Litkicks Message Board Archive

you, my drunken elf

Posted to Action Poetry




drunken elf, he crossed my path and swore a curse
bobble elf, shuddered past and spat upon the ground
shaking now and wheezed between the sobbing
"al-iksiri" he muttered slowly then fell down, passed out
goddamn elves, it happens every year
comes Ember-days they get so drunk
they all emerge from woodwork leafing
standing tall on oaken caskets
speaking elegies to the days gone by
and drink so much they don't remember
which path leads to home again
so I picked him, the drunken elve, and carried him upon my shoulder
yeah, that was me last night, stumbling in the moonlight
me and my drunken elf