{"id":966,"date":"2017-11-05T23:05:53","date_gmt":"2017-11-06T04:05:53","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=966"},"modified":"2017-11-05T23:05:53","modified_gmt":"2017-11-06T04:05:53","slug":"the-local-pub","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=966","title":{"rendered":"The Local Pub"},"content":{"rendered":"

The local pub burned down today.
\nThere’s no more karaoke.
\nI know there’s many who would say
\nthe practice is quite hokey.
\nBut those who lift their voice in song
\nonce every Thursday night
\ndon’t really care if notes are wrong,
\nas long as they sound right.
\nAnd all their friends were there to cheer
\nas if they were a star.
\nBut now there’s ashes on the floor
\nand no roof on the bar.
\nAnd so it goes, the sound of voices
\nlonging in charred wood.
\nOften times the tunes were bad,
\nyet the intentions good.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The local pub burned down today. There’s no more karaoke. I know there’s many who would say the practice is quite hokey. But those who lift their voice in song once every Thursday night don’t … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[16],"tags":[3,4],"class_list":["post-966","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poem-2","tag-poem","tag-poetry-2"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":703,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=703","url_meta":{"origin":966,"position":0},"title":"Evacuation Ale","author":"Rick Young","date":"February 19, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"Soles in suds on the pub floor as the men all talk of war. They just heard the radio say forty bombers on the way. Drink up, it may be your last. Enemy approaching fast. All the family's underground, waiting for that siren sound. But these men prefer to drink\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poem"","block_context":{"text":"Poem","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?cat=16"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":950,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=950","url_meta":{"origin":966,"position":1},"title":"The Conversationalist","author":"Rick Young","date":"October 1, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"Caruthers flustered others with his glib incessant gab. The worst abuse life could unloose would be to share a cab. He'd talk until your ears turned red. your anvil bled and eardrums missed a beat. 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No need to\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poem"","block_context":{"text":"Poem","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?cat=16"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":143,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=143","url_meta":{"origin":966,"position":3},"title":"Impending Clown Rally","author":"Rick Young","date":"November 25, 2013","format":false,"excerpt":"I've never seen so many big red noses. Or people stepping on each other's feet. The air smells of face paint and rubber hoses. It seems there's naught but bozos on the street. And as the rally cries ascend to laughter, while here and there is tossed a custard pie,\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poem"","block_context":{"text":"Poem","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?cat=16"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/redtinnoodles.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/11\/Clowns.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/redtinnoodles.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/11\/Clowns.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/redtinnoodles.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/11\/Clowns.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/redtinnoodles.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/11\/Clowns.jpg?resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2495,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=2495","url_meta":{"origin":966,"position":4},"title":"Lost in the Shuffle","author":"Rick Young","date":"June 15, 2021","format":false,"excerpt":"Death will find me friendless and alone, chewing on my conscience like a bone. Those I tossed aside will wave to me, all together, from a boat at sea. While the dead ignore me, underground, light will leak away without a sound. Those who once walked with me on life's\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poem"","block_context":{"text":"Poem","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?cat=16"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":722,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=722","url_meta":{"origin":966,"position":5},"title":"An Image Undestroyed","author":"Rick Young","date":"March 23, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"There's a portal in the midway that's leaking secret gasses. Extinct birds in the center lane are taking language classes. While coronets are exorcised and passed out to the masses, the list of devastations can be read with x-ray glasses. 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