20
Nov
08

An Ode to Odious Drinking.

Having fun with a rhyme for rum. Less and less glum. If only whisky would have told me, vodka is the only thing that can hold me. Sipping, drinking, chugging, heaving, burping, downing, gulping, pouring, puking, restarting. A cheer for more beer – hooray!

That burning liquid hits your stomach with a splash. Squish squish, the start of a rash. It nestles up next to that half-eaten kebab. Pulling it close, pretty soon it’ll come out your nose. Hugging the sides of your innards. Making room for wine. Don’t worry about the double vision, you’ll be fine.

Stumbling about town, every stranger with a frown. Get out of my way lady! I’m looking for a clown. Good ideas when drunk, thunk with a handful of skunk. He’s bound to be around here somewhere. Get out here, you son of a bitch! Hey, what’s that itch? A billy club opening up a stitch. A crack, a rattle and a sound. Here comes the ground.

Why is it called The Tank? It’s not even partially filled with liquid.

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1 Response to “An Ode to Odious Drinking.”


  1. November 24, 2008 at 1:01 am

    that was a really good story! lol

    kept me entertained

    yay for drunken stumbling adventures!!


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