Halway Between a Half and Quarter To Five

Gunga Din can have his gin… Old King Tut his beer, but I’ll rely on the sparkling wine. Just a bit before dinner, imbibe… just enough to create a sigh… a cabernet sip for the heart… My purple-tinted glass is high; I fill it nowhere near the brim - halfway between a half and quarter to five. I can do without a glass, but what kind of class to drink straight from the bottle… Dear Dad, on my wedding day, did just that thing…do you think he brought his game, when he guzzled half the bottle as the champagne flowed like the Trevi Fountain. My spouse stole my papa’s heart…not good enough for his daughter…too soon. So we drink to forget or we forget to drink. We’ve all become forgetful, forgiving the unforgivable, having relationships with frenemies. Do I sound like I’ve been drinking. I’m not…just poetically speaking I’m drunk with words, with laughter, with memories, with excitement, with friends (that last, even through this supercalifragilisticexpialidocious* sup) 5/25/2025 *name of song in original Mary Poppins movie