Early Times

Under the lindens—
What the British call limes—
With a bottle of bourbon
(It was Early Times)
We lay in the moonlight
Hoping for love
Each wondering what
The other was thinking of

You said to me, baby,
Will the stars always shine?
Will there be radio silence
On the cold hydrogen line?
I nodded and motioned
With one wavering hand
My stomach was heaving
And I couldn’t stand

Oh, if you can stand whiskey
I can stand gin
And together we can stand
Lying down here in sin

So long, Sodom and Gomorrah
See you tomorrow
We’ll be drowning this sorrow
Doing it over again

The moon gaped above us
An openmouthed kiss
The world started moving
But I needed to piss
All night while you wondered
What everything means
I wondered about little
Wet spots staining my jeans

And then there were other
Troubles just starting
My rumbling stomach
Would soon have me farting
So the moon rolled onwards
Overhead while we stayed
Under the lindens always
Uneasy, forever unlaid

Oh, I’ll stand by whiskey
As you stand by gin
And together we’ll stand
Lying down here in sin

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
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