#111: Of Love and Wine

Today’s poem is an exercise in Anacreontics, something I have never heard about, let alone tried, before today.  Anacreon was a Greek poet who made a thing out of writing about Wine and Love, Love and Wine, all the time, in seven syllable lines.  I’m game.

Of Love and Wine

I prefer bourbon, lately,
to the wine–it lasts longer
and doesn’t disturb my sleep;
the self-same preferences
I have these days to my love:
stronger, long lasting, does not
provoke tossing and turning.
And yet, I won’t reject a cab,
a shiraz, a pinot, zin,
if such a thing were offered.
Might go down quickly–and then?
Drunkenness in evidence.
But love sometimes too is best
this way: quick, mad, and sleepless.