Adjacent Wine Tastings

by Martin Parker

The reason I’m pissed is mellow fruitfulness
imbibed from bin ends in a basement bar;
and if I’d wisely drunk a great deal less
I might remember where my legs now are.
But I’m a taster who must drain each glass,
no swilling round and spitting out for me;
and that is why I’m sprawled here on my arse,
my legs both AWOL from below the knee.
The invitation said, “From eight till ten.”
By 8.15, awash with Cabernet
and far too drunk to say a simple “When,”
my legs had gone — which meant I had to stay.
Now, damage done, I’ll try just one glass more
then crawl towards the Pinot Noir next door.

Martin Parker once hoped to be a proper poet, but has now settled for lighter verse instead. For more of the same, and news of his publications, try: where you will also find a Link to Lighten Up Online, the quarterly light verse ezine which he edits.