Connoisseur
The wine the man
claimed tasted
like tobacco,
cinnamon, black pepper
and coffee -
hints on the palate,
he called it,
a full-bodied wine
that delivers
all it promises.
A big wine,
he swooned,
with an aftertaste
of cloves and olives,
one you might collect,
though not cheap.
He offered me
a sip and said
There!
You taste it?
His voice dripped
knowledge,
swelled with wisdom,
erudition,
not a mere catalogue
of dry information.
All I could recognize
for sure
the tart tang
of grape,
the poison savor
of alcohol.
But I would have bought
The menses of a bat,
or snakeoil from him,
if he'd told me
it would cure
my baldness.
--Charles Rammelkamp
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