Thursday, June 9, 2011

Lament for Perrieres

with more than a nod to Federico Garcia Lorca

At five in the afternoon.
It was exactly five in the afternoon.
The bottle was corked
at five in the afternoon.
An X in black was struck
at five in the afternoon.
The wine tainted, and bereft.

The steward took away the bottle
at five in the afternoon.
And the TCA wafted up
at five in the afternoon.
Now the sommelier talked with the table
at five in the afternoon.
And a substitute was brought
at five in the afternoon.
The Caillerets was opened
at five in the afternoon.
Straw and corn and smoke
at five in the afternoon.
Groups of silence in the corners
at five in the afternoon.
And the waitstaff wonder about decisions
At five in the afternoon.
When the sweat hangs on the brow
at five in the afternoon,
when the glasses are filled to the brim
at five in the afternoon.
The Perrieres lies wounded
at five in the afternoon.
At five in the afternoon.
At five o'clock in the afternoon.

1 comment:

winegeek said...

Hilarious. This and the pulp fiction one are my faves so far... although just getting started reading through. Kudos!