Surly from the can at Foxy
Some poems need very little introduction. This is one of them. Crack open a beer and enjoy.
Real Rural Man
It has been a long time
since I drank beer from the can.
It doesn’t seem socially acceptable anymore
with the crowd I move through.
What, Jeremy?! No glass?
It is nice to feel the aluminum
against my lips and imbibe
like a real rural man.
Full disclosure: I’m writing
this poem at a boutique falafel restaurant
called “Foxy” in an emerging neighborhood
in St. Paul, MN while drinking craft beer
so that probably undercuts things a bit.
Or maybe a lot.
The falafel is good though.
J. Thomas Burke 