No.3
.
Five wines in a row;
starts on Oriental form of prose,
mindful of the rules.
.
Six wines on the trot;
oh, five-seven-five, I get it.
World stop moving now!
.
Seven wines down the hatch.
Li’l trouble now, in patches
slack-lapses prove it.
.
Eight wines, oh dear god!
Such slick-ellipses of thought:
Confidence returns!
.
Nine wines, back on top.
World my oystered-pearl once more,
(though grit-clogged with sand).
.
Ten wines, I’m replete
Self-deception lets me state,
One too many wines.
.
No.3
Erik Kaisson, 2017