Thin and sober, like
evening air,
Le Freak brings its
benign curiosity
To her lips, some
Belgian monk
At a waffle press;
a meteor explodes
In the sky. A sent-
ient gas hovers
Cautiously, then ex-
plores the dim
Recess of my lungs.
Or it glows green,
Then vanishes. It’s
an aggressive brew.
And God bless Amer-
ica for its hop.
That’s something I
haven’t heard in a
While. It latches on
and holds its breath
Like it holds its
head. White and
Swollen, like you’d
expect.
It trippels on its
laces, and then I
Said: “My twos are
unshied” and I
Meant it. I grabbed
the bottle instead
Of the glass. Looks
like it only takes
Me two to get un-
shied these days.
This is how I write with an excellent craft beer in my hand.