Whiskey

Whiskey, neat.

Whiskey's neat.

Whiskey is neat.

Whiskey'd be neat.

Whiskey would be neat.

A whiskey would be neat.

A whiskey, neat.

A whiskey can be neat.

A whiskey could be neat.

A whiskey should be neat.

Whiskey: neat.

A few more couplets

Breaking the crusty eyed, 4-inch dust blanket bullcrap hiatus haters is inelegant at best.  Still, where there's work to be done, it doesn't due for a working man to let it lie.


She had a quick trigger and sizzling Szechuan thighs.

She had a waist to end a war and turned my brain into a bucket of lard.

She had liquid eyes and a laugh that'd melt butter.

Her words trickled down my ears like otters down streams, and drenched my mind in a surprise waterfall.

She sliced the room in half with her walk and that ass made my heart stop for 3 minutes.

She wears that dress like a leopard in fur and makes men mice.

He made Biggie Smalls look like a toll booth operator and only drank milk with his cookies.

He wrote on the wall until his writing covered the wall and then bit his fifth pen in half.

His fist made the oak desk quake and his voice bit like Arctic ice.

She smelled like hot sunshine and ate with her fork backwards.



With humble mutterings,

Millicent "Bennie" Benjamin

27 Boxes in 15 Minutes

Wistful whisky walking briskly
Tumbling warmth, a welling of my youth
Dwell in my chest, tell me truth:

You are sparse, placid, I'm drunk
At home in my chair.  I can feel your dress,
See it from here, rip it with my teeth
I'll draw Orion on your knee
You'll tell me to guess about that scar.
If only I had a memento
So tactile and bright with life
But I only grasped your hand
Clasped, more like, a fingerprint powwow
No long council, such as our hairs might have
Brown and brown, wiry and flaxen
And while you slept, I'd weave a great knot
Knitting me to you, yours to mine
So tangled it would be, so utterly dense
An elemental nonfiction
With filamental connections
To keep me next to you, sugar