Drunk On My Tractor
I get up early, a rancher with chores
Hay grows in fields, animals shuffle, roars
Dawn breaks its steel grey grip on my land
And I, well, I have a clear bottle clutched in hand
The first swipe, the one that burns the most
Clears the head, lifts the fog, begins my dose
Work ahead, hours on the grind
A key in my hand, the tractor is mine
Muddy boots climb my ass to my seat
Prepared I am, for this summer heat
A seperate, full bottle in pocket, the engine is turned
Key to the right, another throat tickle burned
Through the gate on into field I find my day anew
View as of now, not quite so askew
The rows start straight, a farmers simple task
They soon grow crooked, I can't find my flask
Fuel runs low, a hassle to refill
Inebriated I find it easy to spill
Unwiser still, I light up a smoke
Finding my way, to field with a toke
Stoned and drunk I arrive at my field
I'll try it again, a little more even keeled
A drunken chuckle to nobody in sight
What a great poem, another forgotten to write
A vision of an old boss, his hatred of me
I laugh, again, to no person I see
He works all day at his nine to five
And I'm drunk on my tractor, happy alive
Copyright © Bic Gi-Sa | Year Posted 2017
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