Thursday, November 16, 2006

Past & Present

A new poem about an old subject:

Drinking Bourbon on the Porch at Night

Twist the cap, break
the seal, and pour:
Ice snaps and the world
swirls and ripples like
the whiskey in the glass
as you lift it to your mouth,
the first sip cold
then warm on the back
of your tongue, trickling
down your throat to fuel
the radiant fire in your belly.
Time stops, or—no,
it flows out endless
like the night sky full of
sparkling dead stars.

November 15, 2006

I've added a new music link. Visit WOXY and be sure to check out the Lounge Acts archive for some excellent performance/interviews.

1 Comments:

Blogger HeatherBartlett said...

"ice snaps" - love it. Reminds me of the descriptions of the skillet/oil in the previous poem.

You can see it and hear it and allllmost smell it, in both cases.

10:15 PM  

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