Water of Life

Water of Life

(for Erik Freelin)

Water of Life, you’re still the only thing
that I put in my coffee!  Milk and cream
are for small babies when they’re wearying
the bones of those more solid and extreme.
Sugar’s for girls — and I ain’t on that team.
Now as for all that other piss folks add,
I do not judge — not much.  I simply deem
such feeble fluids infinitely sad.
But whiskey, lovely whiskey: that’s no fad
or fashion, no mere temporary taste.
It’s great when good and pretty good when bad.
Against that stuff my neurons long have raced.
The end result will hardly come as news;
my neurons are delighted when they lose.

–Tom Riley

Nobility

Nobility

The noble speaker serves a noble cause

By letting all his noble sentiments

Flow forth in stirring speech.  O noble jaws!

O noble voice!  O noble bulk immense!

The fans who come to sit at these events

Are proud to be fanatic over you.

They do not mind your lack of common sense.

They do not mind your mixed-up verbal stew.

They stand up to applaud the good you do

By saying really stupid things so loud

You burst the eardrums of the Devil’s crew.

Do it again!  No wonder they’re so proud.

There on your beard I spy an ounce of phlegm.

Your fans all cheer.  I am not one of them.

–Tom Riley

Heroes

Heroes

 

Wine is bottled poetry — and MadoroM is an epic!

 

Wrathful Achilles had that Hector thing,

And even Hector had his chance to die

For crumbling country and for father king:

He knew he’d lose — but nobly had to try.

Exiled Aeneas, also quite a guy,

After his Carthaginian flirtation,

Went on to do the will of Jove on high,

Preparing Rome as far more than a nation.

Each in his own way, in his fated station,

Was hero and, though mortal, dared transcend.

Now there’s MadoroM.  Ah, sublime potation!

Surely, like Rome’s, its fame can never end.

And what of those old heroes from before?

Can any rival Andy Amador?

 

–Tom Riley