Barbara Brooks

It is late afternoon and I have a coke and bourbon over ice in hand.
Butter is melting and the popcorn blossoms from dry kernels. 

Carefully, I fill the glass to the proper line, add ice, then coke.
I wait for the bubbles to deflate, add more soda if needed 

Try to watch the report on the legislature but they are all liars and cheats. 
I flip over to the Food Network and watch chefs on Chopped. 

All day, I dug a hole, deep and dark, and fell in. That first swallow 
goes down so smooth, the hole begins to fill and I climb up and almost out. 

No matter that the drink will clamp my brain in a vice, a knife stab my eye, 
for now, I will enjoy the oaken liquor going down slow.