09-02-2015, 05:31 PM
TEQUILA AND ITS SMOKY COUSIN MEZCAL
Kenny goes to Mexico to get his
Tequila,
Drives down in the long 300D, the
1983 Mercedes he's been driving as long as
He's been going down to Mexico to get his
Tequila
He also enjoys cigars when he goes
To Mexico, never brings them home
But gets in with the locals (ones he met the first year) and they enjoy drawing and dragging at
Corojo robustos,
Te-Amos usually, and occasionally
They bust out Cuban-colored maduros,
When they're lucky,
Like repeat they'll smoke away each day
And each night drink homemade mezcal
Poured from Baltasar's old milk jug, and
With some, Gaspar pours out an old Gulf story
Either the time he caught the blacktip
Or the time he caught the bull
He claims he wrestled one to death but after
An empty jug even Gaspar doesn't know
Which shark he killed with his own bare hands
And Kenny always says, through brassy laughs, he believes him
And Juan always says he's full of shit
Though at the end of the story it doesn't matter who's sold on it,
Only matters it's been told the way
It's been told
At the end of the week, he gets back in his sedan
Early, the three always want to send him
With a jug of smoky mezcal
And he declines, saying how it'd get taken by customs and make a drunk borderline
Instead he only takes his handle of
Tequila
They manage to work one last long cigar into his hand to burn the ride
Waving and he waves back with the lit
Gran corona
Driving home from Mexico,
He wonders how many humidors he could fill with ash,
And how far a line of emptied jugs could stretch, like in those recycle commercials
If they could stretch to his house
He thinks after these years, he couldn't take mezcal anywhere else, knows
He never came south for the
Tequila
-----------------------------------
This one's relatively finished from a couple months back. Hope someone enjoys it as much I enjoyed writing it.
Kenny goes to Mexico to get his
Tequila,
Drives down in the long 300D, the
1983 Mercedes he's been driving as long as
He's been going down to Mexico to get his
Tequila
He also enjoys cigars when he goes
To Mexico, never brings them home
But gets in with the locals (ones he met the first year) and they enjoy drawing and dragging at
Corojo robustos,
Te-Amos usually, and occasionally
They bust out Cuban-colored maduros,
When they're lucky,
Like repeat they'll smoke away each day
And each night drink homemade mezcal
Poured from Baltasar's old milk jug, and
With some, Gaspar pours out an old Gulf story
Either the time he caught the blacktip
Or the time he caught the bull
He claims he wrestled one to death but after
An empty jug even Gaspar doesn't know
Which shark he killed with his own bare hands
And Kenny always says, through brassy laughs, he believes him
And Juan always says he's full of shit
Though at the end of the story it doesn't matter who's sold on it,
Only matters it's been told the way
It's been told
At the end of the week, he gets back in his sedan
Early, the three always want to send him
With a jug of smoky mezcal
And he declines, saying how it'd get taken by customs and make a drunk borderline
Instead he only takes his handle of
Tequila
They manage to work one last long cigar into his hand to burn the ride
Waving and he waves back with the lit
Gran corona
Driving home from Mexico,
He wonders how many humidors he could fill with ash,
And how far a line of emptied jugs could stretch, like in those recycle commercials
If they could stretch to his house
He thinks after these years, he couldn't take mezcal anywhere else, knows
He never came south for the
Tequila
-----------------------------------
This one's relatively finished from a couple months back. Hope someone enjoys it as much I enjoyed writing it.