I am dlunk with the colours of life. With the flavours of the setting sun’s acid bite.
I pull out my li’l glass. Pour into it a li’l dlink. Thlick purple clushed fluit pulp turned into red red wine. Swirls like a dance in my li’l glass.
The music in my ears goes plink plunk plonk. I loll in the cool-lool blue bleeze. And lick the dew drops of my plink plink life.
I kiss my li’l glass half filled with the red red wine. It swirls. It whirls. It twirls. Around my pulsing tongue. I taste the heady saliva of being alive.
Alive. On this dlunk earth. Under the dlunk sky. Where the dlunk stars weave and wander. And the happy moon staggers and lurches in the dlunk night.
-by Rita Putatunda
Thank God the wine was led. It dissolved Cholestlol. When dlunk even moon staggels and mulches.
ReplyDeleteBye for now Lita. Even I feel dlunk leading this intoxicating piece. I didn't lealize getting dlunk is contageous
Shridhar, dlinking wine and getting dlunk on life - thank you for reading and commenting :)
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