Wino for Your Love
I taught fiction at the University of Southern Maine for seven years. We concluded each residency with a beerfest we called (appropriately) The Follies. The MC in this instance was my TA, Tigh Rickman—a splendider person you will not find! I don’t remember the origin of this song. I might have been unconscious when I wrote it. The woman who so kindly ran to reposition the microphones, a rock star in her own right, then on the faculty, now Poet Laureate of Iowa, was Debra Marquart. The photograph was taken by a favorite student: Adam Birt (pictured below himself).
WINO FOR YOUR LOVE
Words and Music by Boman Desai ©
Lips like cherries. Eyes like blueberries.
Cluster of grapes about your head.
Fragrance of fruits about your bed.
They all make me a wino for your love.
But I don’t want to be a wino for your love, no I don’t.
I don’t want to be a wino for your love.
But a wise man will buy what a fool will deny,
So I guess I’ll stay a wino for your love.
Your breath like melons is what I dwell on.
Apples in your cheeks are seasoned fare.
They’re part of the reason that I’m there.
They all make me a wino for your love.
But I don’t want to be a wino for your love, no I don’t.
I don’t want to be a wino for your love.
But a wise man will buy what a fool will deny,
So I guess I’ll stay a wino for your love.
I’ll always be a wino,
A wino and a deadbeat,
I’ll always be a deadbeat for your love.