the ivanhoe is not a butchershop : a poem

The Ivanhoe is not a butcher shop.
Even on Thanksgiving, when people have ham’s
that they want to cut up while enjoying a cheap pint.

Being a gentleman means asking the owner
of a starving dog if you can feed it your ham.
It’s what gentleman do, how they roll –

Your girlfriend is a heroin addict and you sleep in her car.
She’s left you and your half-a-ham out back, behind the Ivanhoe.

Now you’re on the streets.
I’m only as crazy as you make me, you say.
You used to be successful, had money,
but now all you want is your pride.
forget all that other stuff.

You’re thinking…
how do you get it back? Five to ten, that’s all it will take.
You’re going to sit in jail after
you’ve done what you’re about to.

When you get thrown out of the Ivanhoe,
a ham in hand, while your girlfriend drinks inside
with the keys to your bed, sometimes you just have to remember
that the Ivanhoe is not a butcher shop