Friday, March 4, 2011

Poetry Bus - Drinking at the Wheel

The most excellent Peter Goulding is driving the bus this week. He’s apparently my brother in self-deprecation, so I like him especially. Of course, unlike me, he is actually a very good writer. Just kidding! About the “unlike me” part, I mean, not about his writing. No yelling!

Okay moving on. He gave us a choice of three prompts. One was to write a poem about pancakes (in honor of Shrove Tuesday) in the voice of your favorite poet, & I was going to write like Dr. Seuss, but it’s Friday and apparently there’s no rhyming in my head on Friday. Another prompt was to write a poem in the style of a French rondeau, but again with the rhyming. Maybe later. 

So, I’m left with the third option, which was to write about Stupid Things Done When Drunk. Now, on the surface, since I don’t drink, you might think this one would be impossible for me. But I do recall one instance about 22 years ago. If you’ll notice, the first lines might indicate that I was planning to rhyme this thing, but in the spirit of being foggy in the head that notion just devolved into the effort below.

Fuzzy Navel*

I never was a drinker –
in fact I never am.
Could I hold my liquor?
Your guess is as good as mine.
I thought to tie one on
about a score ago
with a drink made from fruit –
that should be easy enough.
Two hours later
(making that awful
awful pucker face)
I took my last tiny sip
from my one drink,
imagined that my
lips tingled
and worried about
driving myself home.

Wander on over to Peter’s place to read some other great poems. But beware, once you’re finished you might have a powerful hankering for some pancakes.

*A fuzzy navel is a mixed drink made from peach schnapps and orange juice. Generally an equal amount of each component is used to concoct it, although quantities may vary. It can also be made with lemonade or a splash of vodka depending on the drinker's taste. By adding 1 or 1½ oz of vodka to the fuzzy navel you have what is called a hairy navel, the more "hair" referring to the increased strength of alcohol in the drink. From Wikipedia


  1. Intrigued by your fuzzy navel, Dana! I think you're right to catch the bus instead of trying to drive home in that condition!

  2. Terrified at the thought of bearing it all for my grandchildren to read! I have had my moments with alcohol though .. all of them pretty funny!

  3. Sends shivers - hated 'fruity' wine in particular ! although "Dubonnet" was fruity in a strange way. You sipped it before dinner... It could produce a strange echo and tremor.. would not have cared to jump behind a wheel just then either! Thanks.

  4. For me, this could be any cocktail made with tequila. How can one be allergic to this? I am though, so your poem is apt for me.

  5. Totally intriguing! Really enjoyed it.
    I also really like the thought of devolved efforts.

  6. Hehe, not everyone likes the taste, Bug, or the impact for that matter.

    I'll tell you something funny though, out here in the suburbs you'll find a few things quite reliably: Chain restaurants. The suburbs love predictable food because you know what the kiddies will eat. Churches this size of small malls. Housing developments and strip malls galore.

    And in each of those strip malls? Every single one? A well-stocked, busy liquor store.

  7. I think you're right - the fuzzy navel is best left alone.

  8. We should all follow your wonderful example, you are the designated sober driver, move over Peter!

  9. Dana darling, I wonder if people like you and people like me prove that alcoholics are born, not made. My first drunk, and it was a terrible one, occurred at 14 after my girlfriend and I imbibed her sister's supply of sloe gin. We were sicker than dogs that night, and I never drank sloe gin again. Ah, but I couldn't wait to get loaded again. You amaze me, and I'm happy for you.

  10. Is that odd concoction really called a "Fuzzy Navel"?

  11. Child's play! (They do go down nice and smooth though, don't they?)


  12. oh yummy would love a fuzzy navel right now! (Not a setence I ever thought I'd utter...)

    Love the poem... it was always when my lips went funny I knew I should stop drinking... I'm the soul of sobriety now...ish...

  13. Better stay on the Bus your Bugness!


Thanks for stopping by - I'd love to hear what you have to say!

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