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
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