My Friends, You Drinkers

My friends, you drinkers –
you drinkers, my friends –
all time is borrowed,
the bottle marks it.
We dream of the hop, the grape and the grain,
only to awake in the same dream again.

I’ve often pondered
who was the first man
to imbibe
and which was his concoction?

And how long did it take to down a second of those
And learn ‘All Things are Poison, but for the Dose’ ?

My friends, you drinkers –
you drinkers, my friends –
all time is borrowed,
the bottle marks it.

Basi and chicha, ouzo and Pimm’s
Mad Dog, Crown Royal and absinthe 
We make it of potatoes
of nettles and spit
Seems when it comes to boozin’,
we don’t give a…
whit. 

My friends, you drinkers –
you drinkers, my friends –
all time is borrowed,
the bottle marks it.

Gentlemen, I address you in highest regard
as the Sultans and Kings 
of the boneyard.
Our mothers and fathers 
poured out before 
leaving our sons and daughters
to cork up after. 

My friends, you drinkers –
you drinkers, my friends –
all time is borrowed,
the bottle marks it.
We dream of the hop, the grape and the grain,
only to awake in the same dream again.
Only to awake in the same dream again.

Whether Estelle with her Chablis 
Or Carl with his stout,
it’ll find one way in
and a different way out.

© 2020.