A tooth spat and a tooth swallowed
The punchline to the blow that followed
A table flipped, bystander tripped
Then, scrambling to the door, he slipped
As fists flew like birds heading south for the Winter
The blast of a shotgun turned ceiling to splinter
“Now break it up lads!” said the bellowing barkeep
“These four blackout drunks here are trying to sleep!”
A Life in Poems 