St. Patrick’s Day
Fake Irishmen wearing silly green ties
Calling with bad brogues
for a wee dram of green beer
In bars festooned with shamrocks
Pipes and cartoon leprechauns.
They sing a slurred verse of Danny Boy
Like tone deaf drunken goats,
Set the dogs to barking.
Amateurs: they end-up
puking on their Italian loafers
waking-up late for work
the next day in a hangover fog
Grandsons of the famines
Endure this minstrel show
With a mirthless grin.
We stay to ourselves
At our regular bar stools
Chasing shots of Jameson's
Down with dark beer,
Glad not to be thinking
About the days
When Irish need not apply.
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