drunk poetry reading prose poem

A poetry and music reading at a shady old bar downtown. An undergraduate poet writing about birds and metaphors and alfafa sprouts. A musician singing about drugs, out of tune, playing out of tune. Then, the grand finale: a drunken, published, and (gasp) tenured poet. Reading from two other poets’ books, each volume tossed flippantly to the ground upon the reading of a few sentences. Then, his own book. He stood like he had to pee, right leg crossed over the left, wiggling, his whole body wobbling, adjusting and readjusting the mike, almost falling, nearly tripping, a few times losing balance, wild drunken gesticulations with the hands, eyes blinking and rolling, sighs, pause to drink more beer, wobble. A two word poem he is proud of. More beer. You break it you kiss it. Thank you.