There's just something about drinking beer in autumn,
Intermittent swigs tailgating
Chrome stalks blaring light
Friday nights
in the country
Lumbering rustle of a Combine
In an aching field as the
World welds shut in a crisp lid of darkness
pilsner moon dangling overhead,
splotches of frost gnawing into the
earth
There’s just something about drinking
Beer in autumn
Beer that erupts in an applause of
minty hops
the moment it hits your palate.
Beer that leaves sudsy latitudinal
residue
on the interior of the chalice after
each swig
demarcating its territory in hyphenated rips
of foam.
BEER
Cornerstone pinwheel keg,
The gushing tap of a draught
Shot gunned, chugged, case-raced
Flip cupped, t-wolfed,
Siphoned in circuitous plastic funnel
Receptacle of ponged orbs
Faceless lotto, power hour
SOLO cupped, or quaffed
In one
lugubrious slurp
from a Translucent boot
There’s just something about drinking beer in autumn
Feint crackle of sulphuric embers
Echoes olfactory mantras
Mixed with Keatsian odes
Hawthorne vowels, Nautical swill
amber suds, leafy foliage of the earth
running naked with deer and Walt Whitman
yeasty beer belly a cummerbund of flesh
silver drizzle of harvest stars
There’s just something about drinking beer in autumn
Orange flavor six-pack in a tree stand
Rifle claps, sentences attired in bulbs of breath
clods of ice
in a bucket
Shuffling fantasy football stats, pumpkin
sky drifts off into a lucid umbrella of darkness
How I’ll continue to drink Beer in autumn
Brachiating from barstool skeletal
Boughs of trees continue to drink (beer)
Until
Prometheus peels my liver
from the strip
of flesh
Flattened it like a leaf
I wedged in a notebook
For a high school biology class
Not realizing that this vascular organ
Thanksgiving
dinner table colors
Was somehow once able to breathe.
No comments:
Post a Comment