"anejo" poems
a tumblr full of rocks
a pour of ichiro malt
and a stir
gan bei
and
ichi
to the yamazaki and nikkas
i am in the land of the sun
i go down to the land of the dead
mei hi ko
anejo
casa amigo,
to my brothers in arms
jose, i must have my agave
cheers to the alamo
to the land of the prohibition
kentucky
yippee kay yay
bourbon,
spicy rye kick
spur to the horse
giddy up, giddy up
riding off into the sun
set to kentucky
derby
bourbon
ballentines
tom ford west
make your mark
with maker’s mark
bottoms up
and now i am staggering
vichi patia
better than grey goose
aunt jiin
and all the cult gin
navy strength and **** juice
getting rowdy
like irish bloke jameson
and that **** scot
macallan
and his gang
oiban, glenfiddich, and
glenlivet
I am livid
at that son of a *****
son of peat
another round
i am monkeying around
monkey 47
sun set
sun rise
*** on the beach
i see kings and queens
louis thirteen
i am going to sleep
pappy van winkle
100 years
like rip van winkle
don’t wake me
stir and not shaken
good night, mama
sweet havana
neat
a shot of don papa
i go to sleep
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 8:47 PM UTC
I've left my heart in different places,
it's been slowly chipped away at.
In La Paz,
it was the chicha
& in Mendoza,
a Malbec at Azafran,
nice warm saki in Kyoto,
some anejo in Ensenada
& cheap beer in Seattle.
Now all I have left
is enough for shots
of fine whiskey...
I'm still ticking Darling,
cheers.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 6:28 AM UTC
The anejo-liquid
changed my dynamics,
& I threw caution to the wind,
embraced sin & anything
else that came my way.
I was a renegade in paradise,
had come there to play
& flirt with danger.
A euphoria crept over me,
it traveled throughout
my bloodstream,
& I became
another,
dreamt of being happier
& swallowed worms.
I squirmed for her,
the smiling *****
the pretty stranger
who spoke Francaise
with the wrinkled smile,
while flashing icy-blue eyes,
she cried wolf.
As if on cue,
I became a locomotive,
she the caboose
& we snaked our way
out into the cool night
on fire.
We spoke the same language,
the one without words,
burnt candles in a semicircle
under the net,
relished each other madly.
Sadly, it had to end,
but I bet
she still thinks about it,
'cause I know I do.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
Anejo shots started
a tempest swirling,
locomotive-steps winding
under the spinning-lights,
faces poked in and out
of the crowd of crazed-pagans,
undulating in sweat,
nicotine-breath & tequila,
dreams of freedom.
Lupita hollered her name
like all the rest with
the same name,
phantom-dancers
squeezing each other
for romance,
before the stars settled,
the sun rose on the zona
of broken-roses.
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 6:45 AM UTC
It's truly a happy place,
scores of turistas
sitting
under the relentless
sun,
freedom club warriors
inhaling fifty-year-old anejo,
gulping those mezcal stingers
& imbibing golden
beverages
believing every girl
named Lupita
professes
true love.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
We swallowed
anejo and the worm,
walked train-like
through the crowd
outside
into
the splendor
of splashed-stars.
And under
the bloodsucker net,
in between
the pentagram candles,
we made the sweetest love
in the universe,
you and I
found paradise,
so sacred.
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC