A Poem for this week?
'twas early in November,
Or, it could have been December.
I was walking down the street , in Drunken Pride.
When My knees began to stutter
I lay down in the Gutter
and a pig came up and lay down at my side.
As I lay there, in the gutter,
with my head all of a flutter
I chanced to hear a passing Lady say
"You can tell a man who boozes
By the Company he Chooses!"
And the pig got up,
and, slowly, walked away!