← v5n1, Spring 2006
Poetry · Volume 5, Number 1

Drink

As slaughter holds a lamb,

            as the lamb holds blood,

                        as blood holds iron,

            as iron holds rust,

so this meaty corrosion

            is held in your mouth

                        to be swallowed—

            but before swallowing

to be caressed, air drawn

            over your tongue, over

                        this shallow of scotch

            in your jaw, as if the scent

walked on water, and yes,

            let's speak of it that way,

                        God, Jesus, the holy spirit,

            yes, let’s worship in terms

of proof, age, thirty years

            going on thirty-one,

                        Aberlour versus Glen,

            Paul versus John,

let's assign the sharp,

            the honeyed, let's give

                        the Baptists Oban—

            loam, moss, peat,

let's talk of the ground,

            let's lie on the ground,

                        let's talk about resurrection

            and have another round,

let's talk for hours

            before you sober up,

                        my darling, my disciple,

            before you remember

how you spoke of oak

            and sherry caskets, which

                        produced a better flavor,

            and not one of your friends

asked if you meant cask.