Drinking an Old Rasputin Imperial Stout

on a snowy February

with Clint Eastwood on the boob tube.


Don’t wanna promote communism

& Russian mystics seem a little suspect.


Old west motifs pop up

in my thoughts of gunslingers and saloons

Damsels of the night in distress

seeking vengeance on hombres malo


and the wintertime fest

pours into a bottle 

and not mistakes yet

which is amazing.


And my bare arms feel the chill

of the winter evening

complementing chocolaty crisp flavor

going down smoother than it should.


Warm fuzzy feelings inside

the snow seems an amusing spectacle

and quite pretty at that.


Makes me feel free;

Makes me feel alive

wanting to dance around

and joyously sing

the simple pleasures of life.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

drink a beer, write a poem--if only it worked everytime.

allets's picture


A little suspect? Hmmmm...eat, drink, be merry for tomorrow we may all be lined up against a wall and be forced to write verse. :)



georgeschaefer's picture

Father Gregori was a decent

Father Gregori was a decent sort--if you like that sort of thing.  thanks for reading.