Remember when we drank all that bourbon?—
We know it’s not bourbon in Tennessee,
Matt, and so J.D. isn’t really bourbon.
Please stop telling us that repeatedly.
We know. It’s not bourbon in Tennessee.
And no cares when whiskey’s with an ‘e’.
Please. Stop. Telling us that repeatedly,
over and over, is like dying
when no one cares. When whiskey’s with an ‘e,’
when it isn’t. Please. Let’s all just drink it
over and over. It’s, like, dying
to be drunk: lonely, golden with sadness
when it isn’t. Please let’s all just drink. It
will be the sickest, one of the best nights, got
to be, drunkenly golden. With sadness,
we’ll finish the bottle. I wonder which one
will be the sickest one. Oh, the best night? Got
to be that one night—Matt, was that bourbon
we finished—that bottle—no wonder no one
remembers when. We drank all that bourbon!
Gabriel Fried is the author of two poetry collections, The Children Are Reading and Making the New Lamb Take, and the editor of an anthology, Heart of the Order: Baseball Poems. He teaches in the creative writing program at the University of Missouri and is the longtime poetry editor for Persea Books.
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