Whiskey Poem by Gary Diamond

I do tend to enjoy the whiskey.

I tried the rum.
I tried the vodka.
I tried wines red and white.
I tried the many beers.
I tried not drinking anything.

Whiskey was the winner by far.

It seems a lot of people these days can't stomach a good scotch.
They seem content to hide behind their lager and their vodka.
Good for them. But not to me.

Good whiskey tastes like the spring it was made from.
Plus that kick in the throat that comes from pure alcohol, of course.
It makes me feel like a man, and it makes me sound like a man.
For when I talk after several whiskey shots
I sound deeper, meeker and more in control.

I don't like it watered down and I don't like a lot of ice.
One block is usually enough.
I don't down it like it's a competition.
I like to breathe it in and savour the flavour
As it glides across the palette.

If there's a party, I'll take a fifth or two along, and some cheap wine.
The host gets the wine and I get the whiskey.

It's not like I don't offer anyone a shot.
It's just that when I do.
They'd rather hide behind their lager.
And their vodka.
And their rum.
And all the other drinks that are vying for second place, if only
To me.