Blow To The Head

"Hae'd ye geat that knoock oon y'ear aye?"

I looked up at a tree trunk of a young man 

polishing glasses behind the bar.

Come again?

"Hae'd ye geat that knoock oon y'ear aye?"

He had a slight smile on his face.

I noticed the bright red scars above both of his eyes

and touched the swollen mass on my eyebrow.

Well, you know, whiskey.

"HA! Aye knae ate! Goot sumuvum maesel!"

The big young man leaned forward 

turning his chiseled block of a head 

to give me a closer look.

Yep. It's in the blood, 

I said.  

What are you gonna do?

I squared up my tab

and walked out into the rain.