Down the stairs into the cellar, I go a-walking to find beers on the cement wall that need to be emptied from their containers so that I do not have to drive them to a new home. The vessels can join the others:



a brown sugar nose
hops are there like
a wallflower sprouting
but nothing more
raisins washing down
into a mello sweetness
that makes it an easy
enjoyable drinker


if you’ve ever made
homemade bread, that’s
what the head smells
like, look at all
those floaties
dancing in the glass
boozy bubble gum
on the palate


independent writer

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