Long ago while I was still a relatively young boy
Somewhere between the ages of twelve and old enough to know better
I had an old black lady who was a local bootlegger offer me some Moonshine
She was giving it away for two packs of cigarettes per pint, preferably KOOLs
The stuff was bottled in a Mason Jar...with a dirty rusty lid
Looked like water but smelled like formaldehyde minus the frog
Just the fumes from it could start a cold Hemi in the middle of Winter
She warned me not to drink too much
Less the Devil take hold of my soul....little did I know
How right she was....
Went up to the 7-Eleven and bought her a carton of smokes
Back then it was no big deal as everybody smoked
Nobody got carded....
Gathered a few friends of mine that were there hanging out
We went back to the old stable where the old lady was busy....
She was stoking that still full of hardwood when she saw me
And that carton of smokes
She gave us twelve bottles of dew....two apiece....
Next morning...nobody showed up for school
That old bootleggers name was Moon Goddess and she kicked our asses.....
2007 © T Sheridan
Moon Goddess, 'eh? Always wondered if that thing called moonshine ever made it out of those old Kentucky hills......Think I'll stick with the Patron and Stoli, easier going down.... the drink, I mean... :) marci.xo
i stole my father's. He got it as a gift from a fat white guy. It was called Alcool and burned the bottom of a Dixie cup. Didn't make it to school the next day, either, but my father made me shovel manure all afternoon.
Brilliant Ted. The young booze experience is still fresh in my mind. You've just taken me back nearly 30 YERS (sorry, that's a joke for Tara) I am an excellent drinker and I love this piece. Spot on. Ez.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
See. Even when you're being VERY VERY BAD you're so damned good..... :) t x