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East Moriches to Riverhead
my soda splashing on the entire front half of the car
the cup holder like a vast valley
yet a pig pen as the can meets constant dead ends
fenced in

I could drive back and forth on this stretch of land
without so much as glancing up
most days never remembering how I got there

I didn’t care if the alternative happened either
never arriving
never traveling
ever again
Carlo C Gomez Aug 29
Hello happy hour!
I see you're now reduced
to fifteen minutes of
soft drinks and
smiling depression:
simper and wine.
check that...Sprite.

But I'll drink to
nagging doubt anyway.

Cars are now a kick.
Who knew gridlock
could offer such joyride:
the drive home each day
my ******* sabbatical.

I wrote 3 letters the other day
(the handwritten, paper kind)
and feel a little
like Jane Austen.
I think she'd like Dr. Pepper,
but not Mr. Pibb.
Too foppish.

Then there's this:
the wax and wane
of life between the bed
and the couch.
There's six degrees
of separation
through the five layers
of this reusable face mask.

Speaking of masks:
"one for the money,
two for the show,
three to make ready
and four to go."

And somehow I know
I will never breathe it in
that way again.

Random curtain calls:
I'm so starved for someone
to talk to; the mail lady
had me at "hello."
I offered her a soda.
Mail order catalogs are king.
The Saturday Night Special
from the burglar alarm brochure
was my final good buy.
Simon Jul 28
Having luck where I can achieve anything... Is like a young kid opening a bottle of their favorite bottled soda the day it first came out! Awaiting it's arrival like the coating of a nice breeze dancing throughout the company of skin coated with sweat. As the hairs with little droplets of already coated sweat came (as if a light drizzle fell over the field of endless rows of arm hair) not so long ago. Standing perfectly ***** as the sun blazes downward like a coating of sticky smog! Making the tips of the already (***** endless rows of arm hair) shine brightly with droplets bending light between it's different surfaces. Almost as if when looking through the pure liquid droplets, you see the inside of a crystal instead. A crystal fine layer with the inside of many warped and distorted angles. All the very uncomfortable effects may seem mildly first. Except for the awaiting call of the miracle that is the sizzling bubbles popping within a still closed bottle cap of your favorite bottled soda! And that's where ALL the effects that may seem mildly first, is usually because of the miracle that is on an "occasional" slight delay!
Sincerely... The "luck" is in the young kids favorite bottled soda!
Luck isn't just impatient...when it's truly hungry full of vigor! Especially when it wants to thrive in a motion full of severity!
Lewis Hyden Dec 2019
Cool and refreshing. It's the American noun
For fizzy drinks, you know. A foamy relish stirs,
The bubbles rise like verbs, swirl about, and
Hiss at the surface. The faintest flavour of
An adjective, something sweet and forgiving.
Tasted like an adverb: gladly.
JT Nelson Jun 2019
I’ve got better things to do
Than not drink orange soda
My winter is long enough
Without that summer in a bottle

It’s the taste of my youth
That magic orange soda
Fanta, Crush, or Sunkist
They all take me there

Carbonated sweet sun
This icy orange soda
Every sip is a portal in time
Take me back, take me back
keneth May 2019
you're like poison in my hand
carbon in my blood
death was never this grand
holding your love, but dripping like sand

gulping down gallons of regret
enduring the sting, later we'll forget
as if our souls never met
i never noticed how the world was quiet

could've told me you were gonna run
so I'd never have to dive into these soda cans
our oath to be each other's suns
maybe it only lasted while it's fun
i was at the deep end of the soda cans / silly
Yonnick August Feb 2019
Burst open a can of soda,
And sometimes what you'll get, is
An eruption onto your face
And a new mess to deal with.

Burst open a can of soda,
And sometimes what you'll get, is
A warm, addicting embrace,
And everything you'd imagined.
morseismyjam Jan 2019
heat and humidity hit
as I walk out the sliding doors
of the 7/11 cream soda in hand
I walk yawning across the asphalt
where water still pools from
summer showers
as I open the car door I
notice the haze of smog
and starlight and fluorescent
lamps and smell the gasoline
from the thousands of cars
that pass through
I close the door.
ashley lingy Nov 2018
Sometimes I wonder
if the dollar that paid for my soda
was ever in a strippers underwear.
And then...I wonder
if the cashier is ever thinking the same thing.
Kewayne Wadley Jul 2018
To be poured like a drink.
The bubbles fizz.
Gathered around, enriched in desire.
To quench the pursuit of pleasure.
Snapping the top proceeding to pour.
Cold to taste.
This was the comfort I felt surrounded
in her arms.
A glass seen half full continuing to pour.
Filling the space around.
Drowning just beneath the rim of glass.
An extension of myself caught in great advantage.
The settlement before the first sip.
Compensating the thrill of being swallowed whole.
In terms of affection.
It was a hug I'd never forget.
A thought that leads into physical manifestation.
The bliss of the moment,
The moment her lips pop at the taste.
Bubbles fizz crackling in the midst of excitement.
Tickling her nose.
The memory of how things were.
Drunk until nothing is left
The reality of how things really are
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