Convolution
I drink to chance
and to excess
to see myself
home to her rose
of a clock
Dikt om temaet: drink
Dikt om temaet «drink» på Poets.by.
Old mill town
in a town
run-down with drink
ashing the ice
Denialist
I grow cold while all the world
is ready to melt away
noon cruel as the most
troublesome god
what life I have in my hands
is a cold drink
Nation of immigrants
a throng of sad people
carried here by boat
where land is a half-way house
we go drinking
Dregs
yesterday my head
was lighter than my glass
in which I discover a mite
perfect as an angry letter
Self-medication
keeping my body in a bottle
to take and talk to
I drink myself warm
I think myself a very pleasant present
Healths
in order to prevent surprise
we read like fools
only here and there a bit
and without moving
to give thanks for pain
or the power of a rose
preach a sermon full of rope
text with one mind
and one mouth
give glory
to the great variety of creatures
that animate dead bodies
ants like little friars
where I walk head aching
with the healths I was forced to drink
A taste of her own medicine
I take a pill for a wife
a pretty lady made of loss and ash
what a fable this is
getting her out of the way to drink
O door without a house
door gone like a pill
Happy hour
a clock with no face
after 8 o’clock I have no when
a drunken pair tocks
hand in hand
Drunkard’s progress
I came to town
to blot out the hours
though it did not seem so good
as at first
the bottle is a woman
I hope may let me be
Confessional
I never did expect
to turn drunkard
shame is my white horse
I fear myself more
hide from the night and foul weather
of my metamorphoses
Social drinker
My monkey and I
make trouble
in a cup of ale.
Drunk, I talk to my hound
in the tone of an Aesop.