Drunken Noodles

by Jen Biener

There was once a man named Adam
alas, he is still a man, you see
so that initial past tense was a fallacy
and so was the lead into a limerick
because honestly, it’s weird to write about the living
with the reverence and piety
that comes with that poetry
when the living necessitate reality

this rambling is dedicated to my brother
who is a brother to me like no other

my favorite, in fact,
the greatest, indeed,
yeah there’s another fallacy in my screed

for you see, in this monotonous odyssey,
that relative superlative about my own relative
was really just a decorative expletive
because he’s my only brother from my only mother

but he’s a super cool guy and turning twenty-five
so I had to celebrate the fact that he’s alive
because this is the purpose of birthdays

Four “that” (now there’s five)
there’s poetry
somewhere to put those extra words inside of me

But there are proper ways of stress
and stressful ways to be proper,
So I just hope through silly words and lengthy puns
you feel the heat of these hyperboles like a thousand suns
this appreciation for you I never hide, unlike the bottoms of nuns
None, but Adam laughs at cloistered buns

That is the closest to a palindrome I’ll ever near
Since yours was the first, so I hear:
Madam, I’m Adam

And with that I’ll end,
at the alleged beginning,
on the day of your birth:
Adam named man, at once, was there!

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