(A poem from METHOS, again)
Posted by Bright Girl on Tuesday, 30 June 1998, at 2:22 p.m.
From the poem, "How do I love thee?" Written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
How do I drink thee? Let me count the ways.
I'll drink thee from the can, when it touches
My lips, when a single drop slides and it reaches
My tongue, and I can taste thee for days.
I'll drink thee in more ways than I can say
Most quiet slurping through a straw
From a glass, a belly button, the need is raw.
I'll drink thee, I'll drink more than one case.
I'll drink thee with such passion
Through grief, thru joy, and pain
I'll drink thee without cause, without reason,
Till thou runneth thru my veins.
Beers, years, of all my life! -- and if the bar closes,
I shall but drink thee till dawn arises.
Parodied from Shakespeare's Sonnet 135
by Bright Girl
Whoever hath a fridge, thou hast thy Beer
And Beer to taste, and Foam in overplus;
More than enough am I stirred to take thee still
To thy lips, will thy smoothness pass.
Wilt thou, whose Beer is dark and warm,
Not once vouchsafe to shove thy can in thine fridge?
Shall thy Beer be quite gracious,
For thy fridge is all but spacious.
The bitter, the sweet and threatening foam,
In abundance spilled thy store;
So thou being drunk in Beer add to thy drunkness
That Beer of thou, that maketh my throat thirst for more.
Let no other convince thou with tears;
Think all but me and my fridge for thy Beer
Posted by tikasmom (peeking in from work again) on Tuesday, 30 June 1998
I fear that I shall never hear
A poem as bawdy as that to beer.
A beer whose taste will linger long
And toasted be in Bright Girls song.