Drink a beer. Describe the taste.

i’d like to meet a person who

takes pride in this country

and

isn’t

corrupt

or

overeducated

and

underemployed yet still

willing

to spend 9 bucks on an

IPA

because they know there’s

something so delicate about

porches

and

dizzy

 

the slow

and

the white

 

the IPA

tastes like

privilege rebelled –

sunny evergreens hopped up on

heady notes of

skipping

work for hurricanes.

‘round here we do

our best to leave

all planning for

tomorrow and

‘round here

they say

you can hold your breath

for longer

than you think but

beware

a town full of water babies

 

if IPAs could dream, it’d be

you

and

me

friends of the devil

heavy

in

the slow

and

the dizzy

 

“Drink me down,” you whisper to the whiskey.

we crawl inside

the

empty bottle

of

tennessee honey

hoping

our

screaming echoes will

shatter clocks

 

the IPA

sits

quietly

and wonders about

your

favorite hiding place.

 

if the IPA could speak

it’d say

smile

and

repeat

 

i’d like to meet a person

who takes pride in this country,

someone who knows the

difference

between privilege and freedom.

 

would they sip their

IPA

slow and dizzy

or make deals with the devil

from

the bottom of whiskey bottles?

 

‘round here

we treat our IPAs

like broken sundials

we sit quietly

and

never

leave

we sit quietly

smile

and

repeat

 

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