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Ye Olde Spud Cellar

Story ID:5838
Written by:Monte Leon Manka (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:Poem
Location:Hemet CA USA
Person:Chelsea Kansas Kid
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Ye Olde Spud Cellar

Ye Olde Spud Cellar

Zeke, Felix, and I
Meet each day in town
To talk over old times
And throw a few down

Zeke and I ran out of money
Feliz wouldn’t spring
The Barkeep threw us out
This messed up everything.

No more beer or whiskey
No more Scotch or Rye
Be about a week before
The Welfare checks arrive

Long dry spell
I’m tellin you fellar
Credit ran out
At the “Old Spud Cellar”

May have to look for work
So we can get more drinks
This dad-gummed old recession
Really stinks.

After all this govment
Owes this to me
Here where I can be happy
In the land of the free.

Farmer Brown’s a hiren
Lookin for Bundle men
Getting up a thrashin crew
I don’t remember when

So I’ll hold up this post
At the corner of the bar
Stare and wave
At every passin car

Hopin some old sodbuster
Will take pity on us three
Spring for a buck or two
We can git another shot of whiskey.

I may look for work tomorrow
Or maybe next week
But with this lumbago thing
Maybe more welfare I can seek.

Ain’t in a hurry
Got the rest of my life
Might luck out
And marry a rich wife.

Until then I’ll stand here in my overalls
And watch folks go by Helter Skelter
Leanin up against this post
Outside “Ye Olde Spud Cellar”

Monte L. Manka 03-13-10