Ode on an Empty Bottle

Ode on an Empty Bottle

The boys were there

Smoke graced the air

The bottle was not spared.

It lay on its side

With its insides all dried,

Its contents the boy shad derived.

The nectar was put to use

Down their pipes twas tenderly sluiced,

For the boys, they loved their juice.

As it drained into those guys

It lit the fires in their eyes

And with their veins protruding they screamed.

The philosophy of drink being always wise,

They prevailed the occasion to arise,

But now, of sucking down more booze they could only dream.

Amidst the buzzing of the flies,

The prone monolith and its allies,

Were one in the same in spirits or so it seemed.

The boys assembled in a ring

They paid homage to that glass thing

For in the night sweet Jack was king.

So they reached into their stash

To augment the sour whiskey mash,

But to their sorrow there was not even a shot.

The bottle lying there

Was empty to their despair

And love unrequited was their lot.

– John E Leahy

ca 1983