A Pour Fool

A soul-sucking day just like the rest,

A day of puerile heaving,

Hunts down the inhabitants of my cavernous chest,

Leaves survivors cold, starved, and grieving



And so, from consciousness, I’ll soon be leaving



Glass One

Valhalla’s just through the round bottle mouth,

The cork pops in wild celebration,

Berry-scent commutes joyfully up from the South,

The long pour is pure jubilation



Crimson waves smash into clear, shiny glass,

Poseidon towers o’er the sea,

Borrowed happiness soon hits the restaurant pass,

And all mourners are summarily set free



And none are less mournful than me



Glass Two

The hearth-warmth inside my organ’s bone-cage,

Gets to setting all dried things alight,

And Puckish glee leaps off of the crumbling page,

Scattering color throughout blackest night



Yet, the Imp also dispenses pure fright



Glasses Three and Four

When sight starts to blur my thoughts turn to Her,

Pandora—cradling her jar filled with chance,

Were my habits more tempered, none should deter,

Why am I drawn by Death’s flirty glance?



Glasses Five, Six, and Seven

I raise my cup once again, taste that deep saving grace,

The only sweetness to touch my parched lips,

Lone maiden who grants me a look at her face,

And a lifetime’s love-making in sips



Cupid, bring me just one arrow-tip



Bottle Number Two

Glass One

Far from logic and reason, my course has been charted,

My mind turns to the dark inner world,

How much wine’s been ingested since my sozzling started?

Surely a cellar’s worth inside’s been hurled



And Regret’s laundry list is unfurled



Bottle Two... or Three?

Glass Four?

The Living Room’s alive with specters and ghosts!

A swirling cavalcade of... Oh, look! A bee!

Little insect, allow me to be your kind host,

Are you Dionysus’s tiny emissary?



A god’s herald, it’s so plain to see



Glass Something

The sun heats the room, day starts sans permission,

Boring duties brandish their sting,

My winged ally has fled due to my poor condition,

What new adventures will this blessed day bring?



And this process is old and tiring