There once was a Doctor called Pock
-less who had a pint no matter what.
He crowd-sourced a sonnet
And wore a big bonnet
Actually that’s not true but so what?
There’s a reason why
Lyle‘s standard order is a
Drink called ‘Divine Wind.’
The curling master
Is shovelling snow
Drinking rum an’ coke.
Drinker of g’n’t
Not sure she should describe herself as young.
A Terse Verse about Krissa‘s piku, genius though it is:
Here is not Pi Day, it’s only Friday.
Baudelaire, addict and philanderer, diseased and much-discussed
Advocate of drinking and of being drunk, patron saint of the Uborkites
Once said “all pleasure lies in evil.”
Evil, and gin. Gin and beer and cider.
Gin and beer and cider and wine.
This is a new form of poem that I have invented.
But wait! Whence this mysterious text?
From someone buried basement deep.
Oh where is Clair?
If she misses cocktails, she shall weep.
Can I take this bonnet off now?