Notch
“Olly, time to wake
up,” Tom slaps my face,
“ain't going,” I
say, then puke on the bed,
“Homer, Socrates and
Plato are dead!”
“But it's Greece,”
says Tom, “this is the place!”
But all I can see is
that beech side bar
legs up to heaven, just
an inch to far.
Too many drinks as I
tried to impress
spouting my Greek,
“Hola, me be Eng-glesh.”
Laughing at me she took
hold of my hand
and off we walked, across that snow white sand,
Tom with a nod, “put
a sock on the door,
I'll be OK, I can sleep
on the floor!”
And I guess he did,
cause I woke alone,
notch on the ladder of a Grecian tome.
OW
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