It is liquor for the common and the high
Consumed en masse or a shot at a time.
Sometimes it is best fresh
Other times well ages.
Causes a burning
Then a sense of comfort.
Poetry has a distinct smell you come to love.
It should get you drunk quickly
But may leave you different the morning after.
It inspires you to risk the walk of shame
The chance of meeting a soul mate.
Make questionable decisions
Release your inhibitions
Strip yourself bare
And allow the world to criticize
Or hold you a hero.
Yes.
Poetry is both life distilled
And the distillery of life.
The bubbling spring of a train of thought.
From water to hangover
A student to Plan B.
Poetry is poetry.
Going down
Coming up
Swishing in a glass
Spilt on me
By that ridiculous couple.
Or taking the edge off
One of life’s nasty morning afters.
The Proud Dandelion 