Brother Poem
Best Friends
Growing up, I didn't know you well.
Sure, you were there for holidays,
Christmas, birthdays, and the like.
You babysat me some Friday nights,
When my mom worked late at Zippo.
But other than knowing you were my brother,
I didn't know a thing about you.
It wasn't until I grew up that we became friends,
After I'd completed my share of moving,
Tried my share of illegal substances,
Loved my share of people.
We became friends out of convenience,
I was old enough to be in a bar,
But not old enough to drink.
So, every night I had off work,
We'd all go out.
You, me, Dad, and Beaker -
Your only friend it seemed.
You all would knock the drinks back,
While I laughed and watched,
Waiting to load three drunken men into my Chevy
On my twenty-first birthday,
We became best friends,
One friendship left over
From my ill-fated attempt at love
With your best friend, Beaker.
The night was long, the drinks were short.
I drunkenly kicked your ass in guitar hero.
Now, we go out every week,
You, Me, and Beaker.
We drink and we dance.
Beaker and I still make out.
Your friends at the bar look at me with interest.
The bartender looks at me with a smile,
"Don't worry, it's not a girl,
Jay's just her brother!"
(This was going to be an ode at first, but I can't wrap my head around meter enough)
(Get some more poems here.)