Down at Sully's East
A rather unique poem from "The Tramp" with a local focus. Keep the kids clear of this one please.
Down at Sully’s East
By T. Sneider, 3-17-2010
While cruising Glens Falls, my thirstiness calls
As I’m tired of shiftin’ thru gears.
“I’ll stop, what the heck, down on Prospect
At Sully’s East for a tall glass of beer.”
This lonely old coot , crawled off of his scoot
And entered in Sully’s front door.
I weren’t very able to find a small table
My back was tired and butt quite sore.
Well don’t ya know, ‘Suicide Shift’ Joe
Was tending to the patrons that day.
So I waved to the keep, “Bring me somethin’ that’s cheap.
How much am I expected to pay?”
At a corner table sat ‘Crazy Bitch Mabel’
And her dude, skinny Mick McGee.
Mick seemed well dressed, maybe wearin’ his best
Something of a sight to see.
“A Beer!” shouted Mick; gave a fifty a flick
And it landed near Mabel’s derriere.
Mick said, “Old Nag Mabel get your ass off my table
That fifty is for the beer.”
Out came Joe with Mick’s picture of woe
And a shot of Jack for his dear Mabel.
She tossed it straight down, with a wince and a frown,
Then slammed the glass down hard on the table.
“Mick I’m tired of you, you don’t want to screw,
You only drink gallons of beer.
I’ve had enough, Don’t like it; TOUGH!!
I’ll hook with that biker over there.”
I looked all around; looked up, looked down
But I was the only biker I could see.
She staggered on over to this dusty old rover,
I said, “Ma’am, You talking about me?”
“Now I don’t care if you ruff up me hair
Or rub your tits from my ear to my ear.
But Mabel, Sweet Mabel, keep your ass off my table
My three dollars is for the beer”.
Well…, my poor rapport, which she had once before,
Just got her really quite pissed.
So her fist she let fly aiming straight at my eye,
But spun to the floor because she missed.
So the whole bar’s riff-raff broke out in a laugh
And a calamity started to commence.
I began to wobble hit by a chair and a bottle,
Mick… he was gone and over the fence.
“Adios Joe, I gotta go!”
While three patrons gave me the boot.
Out in the street sitting high on my seat
Was Mabel astride of my scoot.
“What in the hell are you doing Gal?
Do you think your ridin with me?”
She said, “I dumped that rich dick, they all call Mick
And now I’m a-skatin’ out free.
I had a strange itch to like this little witch,
If she wants this dirty old coot.
Cause this ain’t no fable, for my dear sweet Mabel
Is riding bitch on the back of me scoot.
©copyright Timothy F. Sneider, 3-17-10