Long Quaffs Poems

like a breath of fresh air...

and all things considered,
broadcast on national public radio
Frequency: 90.9WHYY-FM,
I (a liberal democrat)
counted myself as an avid fan
particularly listening to
the prairie home companion
during half life of mine
arbitrarily referenced yardstick
of one measly...

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'I'm bored and going crazy,' 
    said the young man to his friend.
'This small town living sucks my soul 
    and grief will be my end.
So something better happen...

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This quirk of nature has no definition, formless.
Boundless, yet gravitation it pull us together.  
Ties that bind in chemicals and sensory receptors.
The limbic system, amegdela, primal carnal.
Holding no preconceived notions form whom we shall...

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'Twas Christmas Eve and cheer abounded in the humble English cottage!
The olde house rang with joy since the children knew with certain knowledge,
That Santa and his reindeer would drop by for a visit later on...

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Spring’s Abysmal Guile
By Sy Roth

A vapor rises, rank as the charnel pit,
a corruption of a miasma vast,
as though some sepulcher, long sealed,
split its stony jaws to breathe.
Vile exhalation of a corrupted world.  

The reveler,...

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Joys of Spring 





An onset of early spring,
Benevolence floats in air,
Colours full of romance,
Dancing greens to trance,
Eternal bliss !
Flowers bloom to enchant,
Golden millets of wheat,
Happiness will surely greet,
Iridescent bow in sky,
Jazzy kids jiggle, 
Kites fly...

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"On the rocks?", the bartender called,
As I asked for a double Scotch,
To revive my spirits keel-hauled.
By my sleepy shift on night-watch.

On the rocks the liquid gold poured
Making the cold hard ice cubes clink.
Drowner of sorrows,...

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The bottles, looking sober, mutely wait till it's over.

Between quaffs and hiccups,
     he mumbles that he had staggered
          and fell so many...

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wishing he were Schwarzenegger,
  he quaffs down his last, cold bitter,
    at nights like this he gets real high
      smashing bottles, making chairs fly;

but, at once,...

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The bottles looked sober, waiting till it's over.


In between quaffs and hiccups he mumbled
that he had staggered and fell many times.
That he'd tried to walk society's line,
follow proper paths of places and climes.
But he couldn't...

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O Grappa, goddess dregs of corpus grapes,
Distillate "digsetivo", whole must press,
Fond draught that spirits my carnal escape
From temperate gods, religions of less. 
Your cruel "corretto" beguiled my hand
That morning to revel’s most fowl besmirch;
To suffer...

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