Elizabethan Tavern

by Brett Rutherford

The sot in the corner
no one felt sorry for,
begged for another
full tankard of ale,

and it was given him.
Hirsute, long-beard
all clotted with grease
and suet, foul mouth

of crenelated teeth,
asmile, he reaches out
arthritic hands
to seize his bounty.

They'll roll him out
into the pissy gutter
just as the hour is cried
when all good men

must to their beds
and proper wives
return. He only
must sleep alone.

Boy actor once
on the Globe stage,
his fame good now
for nothing but

the way he quotes
the Bard in full.
Men close their eyes
to remember

how he had fooled
them all, and made
them swoon amour'd.
"Give drink!" he'd say,

and it was given.
"I, Egypt's Queen
and Juliet was.
Give drink! Give drink!"

He was what was
and shall ever be,
the daisy spring
of beauty.