Guinness Soliloquy

The only poem about Guinness i know is this sonnet i have written, which if it is the only sonnet about Guinness, means it is the best sonnet about Guinness (he says with bated breath & a head full of self-delusion,& stout, haha). Mine’s a pint.

 

Guinness Soliloquy

This white minded dark creature, bitterly
misunderstood— you turn us inside out
: we sing, we dance, we love, better.
Undoubtedly Jungian: its Nigredo & Anima
tryst in the fluid suspense of pulmonary yeast
on the cusp of a kiss in a crop of burning barley,
the breasting flames hop in between them
& sundered, tatter into morning-after
bottom growls & frequent trips to the lavatory
between petting & foreplay, learn
each other from the roast of raw morning breath.
If Lao Tzu was around to see the stout
figure stacked in a pint glass, he’d have seen
& gulping, tasted the essence of philosophy.

13 thoughts on “Guinness Soliloquy

  1. I for one think it’s bloody good. Anyone who can get Lao Tzu and Guinness into the same piece and make it seem perfectly logical must have been inspired. The only flaw is now I want one.

    1. i can just see Lao Tzu studying the Guinness he’s been given as it settles, wide eyes like a kid. Then you asking the translator to explain to him that it is a meal, in a glass, that gets you drink & after listening attentively he downs the whole pint in one & falls back off his chair. You say “seem perfectly logical” i’m worried i sound like a Sophist now, hahaha.

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