30:30 2013 - 11

Mountain Dew

O fireproof. O twitching wine
to bless into the blood
of my shaggy past. The last time
we felt time was ours, we left
spent cans like shell casings
at the hero's feet, thirsty
to see another wide-eyed
minute. Color titrated for a heart
that loved the unreal,
like the skin of a girl
Captain Kirk would fuck
and leave on a distant world.
O slow truth caustic
as sarcasm, training the body
by ordeal to ignore sweetness.
The hive of excitement beneath
the seal, straw like a barberpole
control rod, My god,
I am drinking supernovae.
Taste this and think
of dragons.