I'm a tanglefoot philosopher,
you should hear me opine
over a glass of finest malt,
but never a cheap wine.
I've solved the problems of the world
before the clock hit four,
then sped off to the liquor shop
for sev'ral bottles more.
The deepest matters that confound
the feeble mind of man—
who on this Earth can solve them?
Well, with rum on hand, I can!
Without the nectar of the gods,
life would be such a bitch;
so charge your glass, and drink with me—
in honour of "The Hitch".
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Author Notes
Today's word: tanglefoot (n.) whisky.
For what it's worth, and not that it's anyone's concern, I am a very occasional drinker. For some reason, I like to write poems about drink, so some could easily draw the wrong conclusion. I think limiting the intake increases the enjoyment.
This poem is dedicated to the late, great Christopher Hitchens- a great modern philosopher, man of letters, newspaper and magazine columnist, public speaker and imbiber.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book.
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