the wine intoxicates
but the juices flow
the glass is empty
but I want more
the fruit of the vine
the heavenly grape
the senses and smells must satiate

considered wine taster?
that I am not…
a pleasure drinker
just a drinker of pleasures

I am the vine
you are the branches
are the supposed words you said
did you comprehend
understand
how the fruit of the vine
when fermented –
goes straight to your head?

I suspect you did
I suspect you knew
as you slumped on the party floor
Mary Magdelene’s head on your lap
as she dreamed and hoped of more

but we have turned one quick fire quip
into a way of settling scores
only happy when shouting “we’re the best!”
branches of other lives
– not ours
pruned and strewn across the floor

so as I drink another glass
shortening my life’s brief span
I take solace in the knowledge
that wine flows freely in the promised land.