My poetry comes in pulses,
in waves, in breaths.
Take it all, crumple it into a little ball of flavors,
and scenes,
and lovers,
and sadness,
and scents,
and magic
and swallow it whole.
Don't chew it, or grind its little letters up.
Let the ***** on your tongue sting it,
make it a little delusional, a little wild.
Let the alcohol twist its meaning.
Don't spit it out, don't *****
because it wouldn't be the only thing sticking to the lining of the trash can.
Taste it completely, intoxicated or not,
let the little droplets burn your throat,
let the beer stain your lips with poetic regret.
Let it consume you as the bottle does.