Defense Of The Drunken Poet

by Tom Harding

Sunday 14th February 2010 8:21 pm

Late in June we went out 

To gaze at the moon on the water.

I told the story of Li Po, 

Who died, it's supposed, 

Leaning from his boat 

Trying to embrace it's silver glow.

How foolish, you said,

With world famous 

Female disgust for folly,

Seeing only the great life

Eclipsed by drunken idleness.

I stayed silent in the moon light.

What was better? I thought.

Men die for much less

And waste whole lives dangling 

At the foot of other men's plans,

Intoxicated by delusions

That far exceed 

Small wobbling moons as this.

We traipsed back to the car

In a silence ruined by the rude 

Rasps of bullfrogs.

I pictured Li Po there amongst the rushes;

Asleep a thousand years

Whilst the hounds pass.