Here’s to those who stress
and to those who are sick as a result.
Here’s to the neurotic, the panicked, the perplexed.
Here’s to those who cry themselves to sleep.
Here’s to those who sleep alone.

Here’s a toast to the readers of human inflection
and one to the observers of mankind’s darkest obsessions.
Here’s to mortality and all it has to offer
resting the quiet and inspiring the living.

Here’s to the homeless begging for food
next to the scraps overflowing in the trash.
Here is to the hoarders of man-made treasure
wishing for purpose amongst all of their waste.

Here’s to everyone who simply forgot.
Here’s to the shrewd who drink to forget.
Here’s to the junkie who tries to remember
all of the lives we are bred to expect.

And here’s to the despondent, the drifters, the depressed
a beer for the imperfect, those I know best,
sipping too many of my words away
when I should be at sleep in a home and at rest.

af

(written with pen on paper in the cemetery at the foot of Canal)

§ 2 Responses to a toast"

• j says:

  October 31, 2013 at 7:52 PM

  here’s to you!

  Reply
  • Anthony says:

    November 10, 2013 at 2:54 PM

    Thank You!!!

    Reply