Wednesday, December 27, 2006

#248: December 27, 2006

It's beer for breakfast, three-martini lunch,
An afternoon nap slouched upon the desk.
A flask shot helps survive commuter crunch;
At home, the daily scotch--Fitzgerald-esque.

Then fifteen winks courtesy La-Z-Boy
'Fore dinner with cabernet sauvignon.
A digestif? Come on now, don't be coy;
Just one nightcap, my dear, and then I'm gone.

Weekends I'm at the game with a few brews,
The theater with crackers and champagne,
Or down the local pub--but what to choose?
I'm stinkin' by the time I'm home again.

On Sunday I confess all of my sins--
Get shrieved with wine, so hey! Everyone wins.

2 comments:

Jerusalemrising said...

I hope you're not an alcoholic, with this sonnet! =) Very funny, I enjoyed it, but I have my usual butchering to do! The meaning and humor are fantastic, but once again, I am here to correct your iambic pentameter... The rhythm's a little shaky here and there, but nothing sticks out- It flows nicely for the most part, so I don't really have anything to degrade! (imagine that =)
In fact, your use of words is superb! I very much like "digestif" and "Fitzgerald-esque" Keep it up man!

Sonnet Boy said...

Some of the sonnet speakers are true, some are fiction (even 14-line short stories, at times), and most a combination of the two.

My drinking is like my sonnet writing--I can quit any time I want. I just don't want to. ;)