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Three Short Poems about Beer

Shifting Borders Among German Speaking Peoples from Ancient Times to the Present
Hops the men grew for beer the men pissed
were reason enough for any irredentist.

Preferences (in Reverse)
A lager is mostly water,
but it soothes my throat.
With a Weizen … fight’s on,
just to stop the bloat.
The stout packs clout
and tastes like creosote,
but a belgian brings belching
—tasted twice, I’ll note—
while an ale, especially a pale,
will always have my vote.

After Hours, With a Stopwatch
Stretched out across the bar, mouth on spigot,
we drank enough to float a frigate.

Comments

  1. No Small Beer

    If it’s a mere question of thirst
    (And of good taste) I’ll take my first
    And best of all drafted answers
    In Czech or Potosi pilsners.

  2. Louise Orrock says:

    It may be what you’re used to but I think the dangers of beer are underestimated – I feel weaker after drinking beer than drinking wine, although I haven’t actually had a glass of anything for a couple of years. It wasn’t a conscious decision to stop drinking.

    • Ah, but you’re not Irish.

      Flann O’Brien has a different take on the suds:

      “When money’s tight and is hard to get
      And your horse has also ran,
      When all you have is a heap of debt
      A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.”

      But for my bread…

      A bit of whiskey sipped before the bell
      Is worthy twelve quid in a wishing well.

  3. Louise Orrock says:

    By weaker, I mean in terms of respiration.

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