He sat down like he always sat
with a mixed drink and an ink pad
and he always looked upset about
this
or that
but if you took the time to say
‘Hi Jon’
he’d smile for a moment and he’d
collect himself from the bar in
front of him and he’d shudder on
whatever conversation
you shuddered on
with him

He knew a thing or two about
everything, I think,
and he would instruct
and he would exhort
and though a bit pushy, I think,
his was always a valuable,
if damnable,
opinion

He was not so large
but distressed was the one
what bullied him, and
broken was that one’s parts
and in short and simple fashion,
too,
but Jon,
he was not a fighter
most nights

Most nights he sat down
like he always sat
with a mixed drink
and an ink pad and
if I could take him with me
I would but I don’t think
he’d be fit to travel
considering.