Monday, August 11, 2014

My mind ales me & I strain for words

Sometimes when I mean to pickup my pen
I pickup my beer,
and I write with my drunk—
the ink an intoxicant always,
more so than brew or fermented grape;
mind ferments momentarily—
      feelings, the fragrant raw hops
      words wizen into malt
      sudden fireworks of poetry
      effervesce out the bottle...

—Terri Guillemets

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