The Poetry of Gin and Bourbon December 7, 2011
Posted by indigobunting in Uncategorized.trackback
On Friday, a poem titled “Gin,” by Jacqueline Berger, was featured in the Writer’s Almanac. Most of you know that I enjoy a good martini as much as the next gal, and this was a lovely poem (not just about gin, of course). These lines appear in the middle of it:
But that moment
when we climb into bed
on a winter’s night,
letting our bodies lie down,
letting the day be over,
it’s not unlike the way gin
loosens the rope, lets float
the raft into its stillest waters.
Happy hour, when the landscape
loses its daylight meaning
as it slips into the silk of dusk
before night pours down its jazzy notes
in a cathedral of crushed velvet.
Ah, happy hour. I had to forward this to some of the people I most enjoy happy houring with. They appreciated it too, and Martha e-mailed back: “That’s really lovely. Do you have one about bourbon?” Martha and I are both on a bourbon kick. I wrote back: “I think I should write one about bourbon.” But before I could even seriously consider doing so, I received this back from her:
There once was a girl quite suburban
Who drank too many glasses of bourbon.
They made her feel happy
Til she woke and felt crappy.
She found the whole thing quite disturbon.
And now I may never write a poem about bourbon. I mean, why mess with perfection?
Well, that was a pleasant read on a cold December morning.
Even better now on a cold December night with a drink!
So glad you are enjoying EVERYTHING, D!
Since bourbon and gin are covered, maybe you should write about vodka?
Love it, love it, love it…
That’s great!