The taste of grapes, when I was young,
They’d not allow to stain my tongue.
But I escaped to legal status
And used my grapes to knock me flatus.
Then I acquired gourmet decorum,
And munched my meats with grapes chose for ‘em.
But just today I took a walk
Into the cellar to check my stock.
I fear it’s down to one or two.
So I’ll savor them until they’re through,
Then feebly rinse my empty cup.
So here’s to you friend, bottoms up.
One thought on “Hour 7 SEASON OF THE GRAPE”
Awesome poem w/ a satisfying ending! I loved this line: “And used my grapes to knock me flatus.” Haha