I gave up the drink

because I found

I was too good at it,

in the end no amount of Scotch

could take me down

but a small sniff of Brandy,

could truly screw my head apart

as I found one afternoon

in Oxford.

I could dive bomb with Dublin

water and sink the black

on the pool table all night long

but a sniff of Brandy would lead

to all sorts of problems.

Richard and I could drink Gin

whilst playing snooker, one night we barely

spent a tenner between us

but somehow we played all night

and still had change for chips

and the balls to chat

up women on the way home.

I once drank more Whisky

than destroyed the Welsh Bard

and happily reeked of it

the next day in Sheffield

whilst all was silent now,

but place Brandy underneath

my nose and peculiar

things happen as just a sniff

is likely to make me feel ill

and the courage I found to

smile at a woman, her lipstick

glistening in saloon bar draught,

wasted upon a bucket

in the corner and the yawn

of indifference passes her lips.

Pass the tea now, bugger getting a cold,

because I’m truly screwed without

a drink to kill the germs

but Brandy will not

or ever be held.

 

Ian D. Hall 2016