This poem, a completely different poem this prompt came from was the result...
You can hear anything at the Drunked Goose
Streetcars reappearing on ghostly tracks
Little rowboats escaping from bloody sea wrecks
Unrequited love being rewarded with rocks
All stories are greeted with applause
No one judges at the Drunked Goose
For everyone here is an amateur storyteller
Trying to flex their wings and apply their craft
Encouraged by the intoxication of ale
A pity they’ll never recall the stories they’ve spun
Their ditties sung drink after drink
Once sober, the storytellers will disavow them
Saying they can write a much better story than that
Yet they return to the duck night after night
Lured by the promise of applause and admiration
Never sure if they’ve ever truly earned it
Success and failure both lost in a draught of ale
To be forgotten in the headache of the waking day.
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