A Sonnet About Spirits… (Booze)

O’ sunken spirits, fermented in the

Devil’s breath;

You, Hades burn, through my dirt-dry

gizzard, alight

A flame in hollow oak, vacuum in my

duress.

His hand, weeping willow twig, shakes

in penance valued sight.

I have felt your warm embrace, O’

glistening Grapes of Wrath;

You, you staggering Pieper in

momentary bloom,

You mahogany box of coiled vipers,

you half-kraft

Of sensual juices pulsating through my

veins, consumed.

 

O’ great carnal embrace, dripping off

my frosted beard;

Long fleece of winding sparkling

molecules, charred oak elixir,

Hardships gaseous floating through

golden brown copper

Lost in fraternity of burnt clanking

clarity.

 

Is this the warm coal-fire illuminated

study at Frost’s sleep

Or a hearth at the Devil’s feet?

-Charlie Zwischenberger ’14

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