Pub Culture

Here is a poem written in my dad’s old local when I was around 16. He was quite a known figure among the Lewes community at the time and so rarely did we go to the pub without an interruption from an acquaintance. This came from one of those interruptions.

 

Regulars sit around the bar
Discussing the same old rubbish.
Not-so-regulars sit around tables
Discussing abstract, notional rubbish.
Staff wander around working non-stop
Discussing small talk rubbish
With the regulars and the not-sos.
A dog wanders around
Looking for a crisp
Barking sense.

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