Two bottles of the finest wine
A should-be-retired, much me-tired Corkman poised to uncork it
Made to sigh by my beside finish line stymying
He ceased enwining my coupe, stooped to hear
Sneering, clearly disgruntled at some perceived rudeness;
That query alone proved one patrician or rogue.
Can I pay in old punts?
*
Icewater glugging melody masters ignored disaster.
Played on despite.
Threnodies played for, ‘haps to, the spiteless ice.
*
Often indulge
Off ten pungent chronic pulls ’til I’m proper dulled
Like a cauled cobra pungi lulled.
Alchemisland 
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