A Drinking Club with a Running Problem
Once upon a time there was an Ithacan pack
They traveled in a group of six
For beer they needed their fix
And for beer-drinking they had a knack.
So once upon a day in quiet T-burg
This eager crew assembled
Their manner was not dissemled
And incited to find trail about the exurb.
Bridesmaid and Baster drove up in a ‘Rexie
Glassterbater from Corning arrived after
Then Just Dana pulled up in her Beemer
Floss the hare was there and Spike made it sexy.
And so the pack was off
finding trail was not so tricky
for trail was in fact paved and not shiggy
and lo, some harriers did scoff.
After much false trail checking
with flour marks abounding
with true trail confounding
the pack found roads lacking.
Yet wait! Amongst no sidewalks nor brambles
track long upon sun-drenched roads
these poor, besotted toads
did find beer amongst the shambles.
There the pack stayed, getting hotter
quenching thirst, rehydrating
catching up, respirating
And the hare laughed at, drinking but water.
After a bit, quite well rested, hare is off!
Long enough! Ten minutes past!
Needing beer, harriers gassed!
And the roads? Pack’ll scoff!
Long enough, over roads meandering
men mow lawns, women trim hedges
kids play on, old folk kvetches
Hasher think about philandering.
After some time the pack turns left-
familar terrain- is this T-burg fairgrounds?
Surely ‘t must be – tiremarking abounds!
Where’s the hare, so bold and deft?
What ho! Look there!
What could be in such plain sight?
T’is the hare! Good grief, what a fright!
And hey! There’s beer!
More beer consumed, the hare’s off again
dusk not yet looming, the pack still consuming
chatting of music, of long-ago grooving
But the chase yet continues — off now, towards Main!
Skirting the ice cream store cool
The trail to town draws near
Good Gispert, where’s the beer?
Oh, wait, trail heads towards the school!
Along the road we go
the pack baying loud
FRB’s running proud
Aha! There’s Butt Floss, r*nning slow!
Catching up to him now
sprinting up quick and quiet
this prize? Heck, I’ll buy it
Our prize is tied up with bow.
And so on we jog
passing walkers and sitters
hog-tiers, rail-splitters
soon enough, there’ll be grog.
Back home we are, laying into the brew
But wait, what’s that vehicle?
It’s UFO and Bedside, Jeep colored red treacle!
Then Delana arrives, hair slightly askew!
Pack gathers, circle commences
Down-downs meted and quaffed
The girls hit upon, but not boffed
Shocker humps the fences
Thus it is, and so it shall stay
Does re-hash suck? Nay!
A poem writ in A-B-B-A!
There I leave you – on-on to Sunday!
Verily yours,
~Master Baster