On listening to Carmina Burana by J.T. Whitehead

Royal Dutch landed us, their stewardesses served us.

And they exported Heinekens.

Later, when we were driving back from the airport,

I was designated driver.

I insisted on classical.  And the station played Orff.

I understood their response.

It does sound like the Valkyrie vying against Vikings

In Valhalla, and violently.

And yet . . . it uplifts.  But dulled by flight, I told 

My friends - SHUT THE FUCK UP

and, merging, IT’S A DRINKING SONG!

And this was –  kind of – right.

They were hammered.  They’d drunk chunks of Dutch 

Economy on their flight home.

I looked to the rear view.  In the mirror they stared

out of their windows,

Brows furrowed.  I said, “YES, it sounds like hell.”

“But it’s just a good drunk.”

“It sounds like Vikings.  It sounds like an Epic War.”

“But it’s just a bar.  A bar.”

It’s more, of course.  But it sounds right, if you know 

what it really means to drink.

    J.T. Whitehead spent time between colleges on a grounds crew, as a pub cook, a delivery man, a book shop clerk, and a liquor store clerk, inspiring four years as a labor lawyer on the workers’ side. Whitehead was Editor in Chief of So It Goes: The Literary Journal of the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library, briefly, for issues 1, 2, 3, 4, and 6.  Over 290 of Whitehead’s poems have been accepted for print in over 110 literary journals.  He is a Pushcart Prize-nominated poet (2015, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020) and Pushcart Prize-nominated short story author (2011).  Whitehead won the Margaret Randall Poetry Prize in 2015 for his poem “War Games” (Mas Tequila Review).  His book The Table of the Elements (The Broadkill River Press) was nominated for the National Book Award (2015).  Whitehead lives in Indianapolis with his two sons, Daniel and Joseph.