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Poem
People say my poetry is mostly doom and gloom
But I’m a funny person and I’ll prove it to you soon
My wit and sharp ripostes are a constant delight
Let’s see if I can tell this story to prove I’m right.

I had three friends who loved booze
And the only time they didn’t imbibe
Was when they had passed out
Or were taking an alcoholic snooze
Each died doing what they loved
Drinking, sipping and guzzling
Johnny was a straight-forward drunk
Mary took refined and dainty lady-like slips
But Tommy was an out-and-out guzzler
Here are their stories, one by one
Pull up a chair and sit, let’s get to it.

Tommy was one of a kind, how that man could guzzle
Why he did what he did remains an unsolved puzzle
One day Tommy got the bright idea
To build a silo twelve feet high and wide
And fill it with a life-time supply of liquor
That way each day his guzzling could be quicker
Tommy worked hard in building that silo
Like a man in the throes of dementia
Eagerly anticipating his coming adventure
He finished the silo in less than a month
Filled with pride at his accomplishment

He travelled state-wide to gather booze
Crossing three state lines and
Covering the counties, too
The pile of bottles, barrels, kegs and jugs
Just grew and grew and grew
His endeavor got people to talking and
Coming around Tommy’s place, stopping
Laughing, pointing, staring, gawking, 
Tommy ignored everyone intent upon his task
Until one day the silo was filled
The job was done at last
The booze dripped over the silo’s rim
That silo was filled right up to the brim

Everyone lined up to help Tommy celebrate
The tap was opened and the booze flowed
At a generous and steady rate
At about dawn everyone was down
Drunk as lords passed out on the ground
Tommy was the only drinker standing
In between guzzling, muttering bleakly
“I outlasted them all – the weaklings”!

Now Tommy had built an outside ladder
To get to the top of the silo
Without warning he started climbing
A couple of times coming close
To losing his grip and falling
At the top of the silo Tommy braced himself
And using his best Cagney voice
Started screaming in elation
“Top of the World, Ma, Top of the World!”
Then did a perfect swan dive
Into his favorite libation.

EPILOGUE:
If you’re going to swill and guzzle
Do it with panache
Emulate Tommy and always intend
To be sure you make quite a splash.
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