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An Ode To Fine Drinking
With alcohol coursing through my veins, I sense and feel the best of my pains. With double resolve to amend my aims, I can’t believe I really want to. Oh Alcohol! Oh Alcohol! Oh Alcohol! you are the balm and bane to my existence; and yet, if I must choose, I choose the balm to my existence. As I tear through the shadows of my life, I know that thou art with me, every time I pour a glass of fine red wine, or a stout shot glass Irish whiskey, I marvel at the sound and tenor of this fine alcohol as it moves in waves and slaps the inside of the glass of choice. The sound it makes is indeed notable and quite pleasant. As they say in the German: “das macht ein gutes Geräusch.” -or- “das macht eine klangvolle Wonne.” With alcohol coursing through my veins, melancholy is never one of my pains. This emotion is not allowed nor will I ever be cowed, and depressed—as some suggest: to slump, to sulk, and to sit in the corner crying over what might have been. When drinking and thinking and being, and— with alcohol coursing through my veins, I do indeed savor the sound of fine alcohol being poured to quite rightly ensure that I will never be bored. As they say in the German: “das macht ein gutes Geräusch.” -or- “das macht eine klangvolle Wonne.” Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany (August 24, 2014)
Copyright © 2024 Gary Bateman. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs