Jug wine he’s quaffing, an imbibition display.
Coulda sipped some Riesling, even a nice Chardonnay.
Those ain’t the kinds he goes for; that ain’t his style,
’cause most of his finds aren’t OK; he’s no oenophile.
When he grabs his wine cup, it won't be filed with fine
vintage that will wow.
Many vintners who take in tastings swear they drink brine.

He is off to jugging; try it, you’ll see what I mean:
As in your mouth it pools, it taste just like kerosene.
That’s better then bleach, when tongue gets really disinfected.
To buccal breach he gets it; it’s ingested.
It’s true, he’s a wine nut, but for a certain kind.
Glug-glug-glug-glug.
The cheapest of brands he goes for—just a few dimes.
When he grabs his wine cup, it won't be filed with fine
vintage that will wow.
many vintners who’ll swear at tastings that it’s urine.

Stuporman pours cheap “Sautern” and swigs it down with glee.
It has mouthfeel of fertilizer and swirls round freely.
He doesn’t sip fare that’s remotely like Côtes du Beaune
or Rhône, got a finish like piss of a roan.
When he throws this wine up, he’s later feeling fine.
Gets sick on this brand; it’s low-cost but thwarts his chyme.
Should pick a new brand.