How To Drink Single Malt Scotch

Dear Cable Company,
I was cracking a 12 year old
double wood Balvenie when the news arrived,
it’s digital tidings sheer and edgy as slit skin,
blasting twenty plus and still counting bodies into my family
room. Some were disgusted by the smoky appearance
and the peaty smell. Others babbled about
retirement planning and hair loss.
I told them to keep out
of my scotch, that I prefer to breath
it in from a tulip glass because it splashes the spirit
onto the tongue. Riedel and Glencairn make quality variations.
I said I didn’t need them,
to consolidate my credit card debt. But they stuck, staunchly
bleeding trails down my glass, some streamed out louder,
especially during station breaks, so I threw water
at them but they wouldn’t come out of the carpet
which made the dog bark a bunch and the neighbor yelled
to turn it fucking down. Yes, you should stick in your nose
and gently agitate the glass but
single malt drinking is more rewarding when free
of distractions. That it numbs the brain is a documented
desire but it’s smoother without little murders
floating in it. And suicide bombers, demanding religions,
teenage sex with guns, primaries on different dates, and all that
money? Granted, I like to pair up with a plump
cigar but these awful things might be better kept silent.
The evening news should not need washing down and those three kids
that were drowned and their mother are messing up my hot tub.
You must understand this isn’t what I ordered. I wanted Disney and MTV.
And someone else’s child is still missing. And I know it’s a lie
about not eating the sushi, oysters and dark chocolate I wanted
with my whiskey which is now oddly empty. Please
cancel my subscription. In the box you’ll find the body
pieces that remain, some toys made in China, a glass of rain
from the sunny weekend you promised, one emptied bottle of scotch
and those little dead bastards who claim they didn’t do it.
Please remit $70 for the scotch. I get giddy just thinking what my loss
in business will do to your day.
It almost makes one murder worth another.

m.r. kidd

Whiskey, Whiskey - Tim Hardin (mp3)


Whiskey Straight - Rocky Votolato (mp3)


All text, prose, poetry and written material are the legal copyright of "Michael R. Kidd" - © "Michael R. Kidd, ADG, LLC" 2007. All rights reserved. The poems posted here are copyrighted and may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without permission.

Too Unemployed to Buy Your Love This Year

Dressed in new shoes I stride
through the mall. Pants and coats
turn away from my ass looking to
time me out for the work I walked away from.

Perhaps I should have bought that better
suit in the shop by your office,
the one spun by immigrant hands and laid away
on funds I owe in windfalls.

Just ahead of me more holidays parade.
Down this long hall of same ol' shit,
I notice a gathering of viciously inane
bargains I'll have to pass
getting to the end of this long spree
with no transaction between us. Good,
because I look so rich in these shoes.

m.r. kidd

Gift Rocco Deluca & The Burden (mp3)