Adam
Adam lay miraculous,
unconscious with drink.
In a dream, he named whiskies
by nose, palate, finish:
brine and limes, a delicate
peat-reek, Weetabix.
Plasticine, emulsion paint,
amyl nitrate. A warm horse.
Kippers, treacle toffee, grassy
with green grape . . .
the work was endless.
Jalapeno peppers, tobacco notes . . .
Adam rose with a rough tongue
and heartbroken.