Leave it for the angels’ share;
the wine is good, and we don’t want
to burn up like a brimstone flare.
Leave it for the angels’ share.
The night is young, and devils may care,
but we are old and nonchalant;
leave it for the angel’s share.
The wine is good, and we don’t want.
Give it to the devil’s cut;
go down fightin’, or stay up
until the sunrise, that old slut,
gives it up to the devil’s cut.
Bottles open, shutters shut,
take a pull or raise a cup;
give it to the devil’s cut.
Go down’ fightin’. Or, stay up.
***
This poem is the twentieth in my marathon of poems (plus 3.8) for Tupelo Press’s cool fundraising project 30/30. You can view the poems I and the other “runners” submit every day during the month of March, at
http://tupelopress.wordpress.com/3030-project/.
Please follow our work, and if you find it even the slightest bit entertaining, engaging, thought-provoking, or just generally worthy, donate to Tupelo Press, an independent literary publisher. Sponsor me by entering T. Thibodeaux Baar in the “in honor of” line on the donation form, which you can find here:
https://www.tupelopress.org/donate.php
(Scroll down; it’s a form!)
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