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Whine

by Jeffrey Parren

We drink their wine
without speaking
their language
and we buy it up
from distribution centers
before they
have a chance

so waiting on them
on our turf
is an unenviable task
with a seeming
egotistical air
about them
they act elite

like they own
and can dispose of us
at their own free will
because they started
making great wine
before we did
and their current struggle

is to save the language
that if anyone
listens to
notices how aggressive
and harsh the words are
but maybe that's because
they had to come here

just
to
sip
their
own
French
whine.

11/08/2008

Author's Note: Not sure if the word play at the end works the way I want it to...any comments or suggestions?

Posted on 11/08/2008
Copyright © 2026 Jeffrey Parren

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 11/08/08 at 06:32 PM

I actually rather like the ending. It plays like a series of slow, steady nails in the coffin. Nice work.

Posted by George Hoerner on 11/09/08 at 12:49 AM

Not only did they give us their wine, but their literature, their justice system, their simplicity when we choose to see, and their philosophy and help give us our freedom. I think we should cut them some slack.

Posted by Joe Cramer on 11/09/08 at 02:21 AM

brilliant... simply brilliant....

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