2 Shots | A Poetic Dyad

I. Vodka

measure out the shot

or pour what seems like a bit much

then juice, stir

sip

gulp

don’t ask me to bring back any Russian vodka

it tastes like shit

it makes you sick

it’s not quality

it’s the speed

at which the gray skies

day in

day out

so bleak

disappear

and all gets blurry

your speech slurs

you say things that you really mean

but wish you didn’t

the next day;

it makes

synthetic fun

out of genuine depression,

it’s something that makes unbearable

forgettable.

that life -

why do I return?

maybe to remember

why I left

II. Ayahuasca

ask for a full shot

in the dark

candlelight

soft voices

gentle folds of blankets

brown liquid

makes some gag

but to me

always tastes like chocolate

Ayahuasca, Ayahuasca

mamacita

medicine woman

so ruthless

so loving

connects

to the vastness

of consciousness

that we have done a great job of

suppressing

forgetting

preventing

it rips open the veil

and forces all toxins out

until you are on your knees

drowning in tears

stripped of all the constructs

tripping on the infinity

of the eternity

of who you really are