Some of you may know I do quite a bit of open Mic poetry these days: this is now my traditional 1st poem in a new place, so here goes....
I'm instinctively distrustful
Of any kind of inn
That, whatever the occasion,
Offers sofas, within
Which you are encouraged
To laze and loll about;
Yes, I'm sure they're very comfy -
But that ain't what a pub's about....
If you want to sprawl on sofas
I suggest you drink at home instead;
Sofas discourage dogmatic discourse
On- for instance - the merits of a head
On a pint of hand-pulled porter
Or a golden I.P.A-
Sofas smother conversation,
Not the proper drinker's way.
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