They Don’t Stop Comin’

It’s official.
I no longer suffice.
The ice that cools the drink
eventually merges with that drink,
resulting in a lesser beverage
that nobody really enjoys.
Take my livelihood if you must,
but leave my neuroses where they waver.
Just as well, scrape the savor
from my tongue.
You can have good taste
or be well-hung, but never both.
I’ve completely lost track
of where this was going,
but I’ll be sure that it gets there
in a chariot laden with explosives.

-r. miller

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