South Philly Delirium '89

The sunshine burns sallow over Passyunk delirium,

pouring from the taps of Pollacks and Philadium.

Our liquid lunch libations at the shipyard club of chieftains

fueled afternoons spent swimming through the neighborhood asylums.

Untwisting the logic of pretzel frayed nostalgia,

with shots fired down throats chased by the lukewarm piss of lager.

Frozen into black and white smoked spider web cloaked still-frames

melting to barstool xenophobes nearly jaundiced to cirrhosis.

These were pub crawls for the ages, beyond deja vu ad nauseum;

from the Melrose to the apocalypse to Centerfolds to nausea.

Looking back I feel a tinge of longing with the sickness.

Mostly ill.

Absolute regret.

But there is that tickle -

and it itches.

From time to time.