To sip on beer and foreign
Spirits; both repulsive and attractive.
To fill my belly to the brim,
Send my mind on the offensive.
But being of modest mind
Urges me to lock away with key
The part of me I find unsettling;
That secret spirit, that Bowski.
That jester! That animal! That beast!,
The greater part of my mind does cry;
with scorn and wit, it longs to feast
on drunks and clowns 'til bottles dry.
Then home again. Nothing lost,
nothing gained. Perhaps but a waste
of time, better spent towards the chase
of the unattainable; the higher taste.