You know it gives you heartburn. It tastes too good.

My My My
You’re small, so
my perfect body-shaped throat
leaves you just enough room to breathe;
Retracing my downtown Miami sketch through last-night’s last-call swallows
without choking me.

You upset
stomach,
blame it on the thousands of barrels of oil
shameless spills
and this sinking ship.
Blame it on those drinks I
Can’t throw up.
I depend on it
because “someone else was in charge,” says every…
“I blame you,” says every…

Glug glug glug.
Save me but
Catch me if you can.