Joe
Of course I worry
about pain which is pleasure and pleasure which is pain.
Of course I’m confused about the frightening joys
which medical lab coats consistently forget to remember.
But who could resist such a complex
fugue of a brew? Liquor unfamiliar with the sunny ethereal leaves, meaning tea,
nothing to do the thin-skinned, musty, and ever-weepy grape.
No, it’s a beverage with guts,
dammit, drunk brisk and sometimes even stilled
under pressure and steam
to a strangely acceptable bitterness.
We all know it’s basically legalized speed.
We all know it amplifies and threatens to strain
and even bust up the heart.
We know it intends with each blear-headed swallow
to finagle the mind
into the body, back down it swirling like creation into the forge
once again.
Nichols © 2003
Draft posted for temporary viewing.