©2016, ©2017 by Kevin Postupack.

 

  • Facebook Social Icon
  • Pinterest Social Icon
Please reload

Recent Posts

Retro Cocktail for December: B&W Russian

December 1, 2017

1/2
Please reload

Featured Posts

A Drink For Jack Morgan on the Event of His Birthday: To Die Penniless Looking at Stars

March 6, 2017

 

 

The flag flies often at half mast.
Last time it stayed like that for fifty years.
In America we just keep it there
because tragedy is how we roll
and we like to be reminded
by giant symbols writhing in the wind.

When we beat the shit out of someone,
we take them to a station in the woods
where we weigh their wallets
and their carcasses and high-five
because that’s how we were raised,
to destroy beauty like a flagpole.

We build you up to tear you down then we kick you
until you never want to stand all the way up again.

 

This is my present to you, dear friend, a drink to recall happy, hopeful days. The adventures we shared still animate my soul.

 

For those who don't know, Jack Morgan is a poet, my favorite poet, whose words are painful and beautiful and fragile as the tip of a spear. They're filled with cigarette-filled neon nights and half-closed eyes. And indomitable spirits struck down with lost hope, and light illuminating shadows where hope has retreated—where it's found again.

 

His words are here—above and below—from his new book: The Chris Hemsworth Sonnets. Finish it soon, my friend! The world needs its poets. Now more than ever.

The title of the new drink is from this book. I see it as a toast for poets, as they bring their glasses together...

 

 

TO DIE PENNILESS LOOKING AT STARS

1 part Bulleit Rye Whiskey
1 part Luxardo Amaro Abano
½ part Fernet-Branca

½ part Yellow Chartreuse

splash of Luxardo Maraschino Liqueur

liberal dashes of Fee Brothers Black Walnut bitters




Stir over ice. Strain into a chilled coupe
 glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

 

 

 

 

 

    "howling for the fires of five suns
     and wondering how the world stopped loving"

There was a waltz on a line of razorwire.
There was a weapon on the sidelines of our trust,
but only one of us could have reached for it
between the garbage and the flowers.

And it was a pragmatic destructor who took notes while my sleepy head shook.
And it was a reminder that I am American and will fall far from my tower.

 Click on books!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And check this out...

Why I Love Fernet-Branca & Hate Anyone Who Doesn't: A Guest Blog By Sky Jack Morgan

 

Skyjack—A Fernet-Branca Cocktail

 

Please reload

Follow Me
Please reload

Archive
  • Facebook Basic Square