Tattoos -
Mate, if you give a fig, name is Jiggers.
Know now, I’m the kind of guy who likes booze.
People handed me that name, it figures.
I’m all coffin varnish smeared with tattoos.
Wild and mean, that kind of life’s what I choose.
Be sure, Saint John’s place to find a cheap flop,
place where I can try to shake all my blues.
I think Saint John’s a good New Brunswick stop.
Copyright © Alfred Berggren | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment