A sober man cannot walk straight enough to suit his neighbors-
Unless he’s pure as Ivory, his reputation labors.
But the sot is either pitied or he’s envied or he’s funny ,
Then forgiven, overlooked in the degree that he has money.
If he meanders down the street from side to side and spewing,
Why he is drunk Ha-very-ha, and knows not what he ‘s doing.
He can pick himself a quarrel, he cen heckle, he can bicker-
But please think nothing of it, it’s the influence of liquor.
And if he grows insulting, calling you a Dirty Name,
Kindly lay it to the whiskey–do not say the man’s to blame.
My point, then, taken simply, is this very little one:
That drunks, in my opinion, have the pick of all the fun.
And so, dear water-wagon, I must say goodbye to you–
I’ve a friend who needs insulting, and some things I want to do!
by Ray Romine Thursday, August 4, 1949
