This was written over the course of a few hours during which I posed for a photo shoot as an 1800's Absinth endorsing writer and muser. I hammered away on a 1894 Underwood typewriter, which turned out to have a rather steep learning curve when the typist is accustomed to 'delete' buttons and 'edit undo' functions. Never the less, I powered through and managed to hunt and peck out the following stanzas. Now, it must be said, being a lover of authenticity, and a enthusiast of all things spirited, I did, whilst in the middle of the photo shoot, enjoy a glass or more of the traditional one part spirit, two parts water with a burnt sugar cube rendering a cloudy yet potent transport for the green fairy; Absinthe. When I came to the next day this is what I found on the tea stained paper which was wretched out of the cold dead hands of the Underwood at the end of the shoot. (unaltered)
"Never Titled" or "The Sugar Cube"
There goes all my money like dust in the wind,
Up in the air.
Left shoulder down, right shoulder up,
It's just not fair.
A man summons a cab, a singer summons a note,
A skier the snow, the sea captain his boat.
A date summons his train and a child his toy,
A soldier the action and a priest ever joy.
Deserts summon rain as it's crosser his water,
The farmer his crop, the mother her daughter.
The dog companionship, the debater the contrary,
But Alas! The writer, above all, The Green Fairy.
That was a poem you may like it or not,
If you don't, then well join the lot.
Nay, I have never claimed nor have stated,
With a large fan base my thoughts are related.
High numbers aren't the best offer,
Don't believe me? Go ask the golfer.
Tis better to have a devoted few,
Than it is to watch fandom undue.
Ay! For peoples admiration is so soon,
Harkened back to face it's doom.
written under the influence of 'La Fee Verte' by,
jeffc
