Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Bad-Time Booze

My tongue grows heavy with foul fizzy brews,
brain half-poisoned with bitter resignation,
cold cups of coffee and bottled desperation,
a hot shot of envy in a glass of bad news.
Pour me some more of that bad-time booze—
heartbreak hops and fever fermentation,
traces of flavor disappeared in translation
in the broke-down city of the red-black bruise.

Just when we thought we had nothing left to lose
troubles that bubble like over-carbonation,
long-gone problems come back out of solution.
Bent by sewer gas, choked with crepitation
bloodstream boulevards run with retribution
in the broke-down city of the red-black bruise.

--inspired by Poefusion's title, "Your Tongue Grows Heavy From Foul and Fizzy Brews".

Collection available! Knocking from Inside

1 comment:

Michelle Johnson said...

Ooh this is so good. It sounds bluesy and shows well what goes on behind the scenes of drinking. Love this bloodstream boulevards. Well done, Tiel, well done. Have a nice day.