Double Red Ale
Once upon an arvo sunny, while I tried to stretch the money,
That I’d received from my redundancy some several months before–
In the park I sat, while sipping, on a beer I’d kept from ripping,
Till I had a glass for tipping, tipping from the can to pour.
“Tis a double red” I muttered “and it needs a glass to pour–
Else the hops must be foreswore.”
I was definitely sober that afternoon in October;
But that might not long be so for the beer’s ABV did soar.
So I drained the can till spent and I relished in the scent
And the can said 10% when the ABV I saw
With the constellated demon and the volcano I saw–
10% and I said “phwoar.”
It poured deep, ruby red though it held but little head
Almost brown, but with the sunlight the red shone through all the more,
Spring was undoubtedly here, and to rouse a little cheer
I thought the prospect of a beer in the park was not a chore.
To sip on burnished copper on the grass is not a chore–
It’s a treat, and that’s for sure.
Presently the scent grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
Lifting to my nostrils a deep nosefull did I draw
And though redolent of hops, it put me in the mind of shops
Where a man with muttonchops would stand while tending to the store
Selling bags of one cent lollies from the counter in the store–
Snakes & raspberries galore.
The beer landing on my tongue, its heady scent still in my lung
Was so big and bold and punchy as it flowed down through my jaw,
It wasn’t very fizzy, though it kept my tastebuds busy
And threw my palate in a tizzy with great richness to explore,
Almost syrupy and resin-y, that liquid I’d explore–
Was it barrel aged? Not sure.
Though the rich malt wants to linger those big hops give them the finger,
And the malt subsides to bitterness that coats the mouth’s whole floor.
The beer is big and boozy and the second sip’s a doozy
And like some cheap and common floozy spreads its warmth across my core,
Spreads its sweet and bitter liquorice across my very core–
Smack your lips and drink some more.
The bitterness, you see, is like an over infused tea,
Herbal and astringent like Campari (which I must say I adore).
There’s an alchemy of sips where the sweetness drops and tips
Into the hops in great big drips so that that acrid note can roar,
(And believe me when I tell you that that acrid note does roar)–
Refined, but a touch raw
And the folks here in the park will remain until the dark
Comes flowing in like caramel, as the beer did before.
For now, sunlight on our shoulder leads us all to grow much bolder,
And we’ll do this till we’re older in defiance of the law;
Drinking from open containers in defiance of the law–
Sipping Kaiju, evermore.