Cauim High
Oliphant gesticulated with his “guns,”
Gregarious in his galavanting across
Geneva at midnight, masticated
Manioc at the mercy of his mandible,
The cauim stored in sugarcane cans,
Smacked of synthetic snake serum,
Triangulated my torpor. Tactless, I was
In front of the Grande Dame of
Demonstrably dour doldrums. Dear me!
Oliphant is back, having brushed off his
Brazilian brew-mastery for his blitzed mate.
“The drink is variously vicious to you Vatican-types,”
Oliphant said to me. To which I responded,
Yes, I may be Catholic, but I was no Pope Pius.
Booze is in the Bible. Proverbs says to not look at
Wine when it is red, as if wine were Stheno and Euryale!
Chega!
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