Day 17: Dobject's Person He Would Most Like To Drink With

The person I would most like to drink with is—

and, by “person,” do we mean a human?

As I’m sure my dog’s a merry hail-fellow,

who could tell a houndish hootish tale,

but I doubt he can hold his licker,

it's plagued him most his life.

And by “like,” and “most” do we mean a doppelganger?

As a agreeable as they come, to every sworled finger,

but a drag at parties, and too much close to home;

as for “like,” I’m sure I’ll like any likely

liker alike the likes of which bear no likeness liken me.

And by “drink,” well, what really can I say?

I can pass for a year past my age,

if I didn’t shave two days,

and quoted pithy quotes: Elvis, Perec, John Cage;

but they’d card a barstool

if it hadn’t sat so still all day,

and not seemed so eager,

despite the risk,

for a taste of any action,

so as to hide beneath the bar.

But the American way, ever right, ever feared, as ever, is yet:

“Don’t trust anyone under 30.”

Oh well.