“Inspired by that same French excellence”
You snifters and swirlers,Who barely even drink,
You championship imbibers
Seeking bottles with medals,
I release you! Leave me
And my sacramental wine, alone!
Is your Burgundy blessed
By a lineage stretching
Like a vine to Aaron’s seed?
Yes, you can claim heritage
To Caesar in your terroir,
I suppose, but brothers and sisters
We will end up in the same place,
Why mock the river I float on?
Such a nice purple, like the night
Slowly turned to flame,
And if it is too sweet and not bitter,
The taste you love to anoint your mouths,
Give me peace and rest,
You may balance your pleasure
With a sour foretaste,
Call my stuff a syrup,
But I have no guilt in sweetness
Complimenting hues of sugar
Touching my words and dreams,
With this bottle I will set sail,
And greet you at the shore we seek,
Why be mean to me now?
Let us be quiet, then smile
Once we realize it is not wine inside us,
But a floating reflection
Of ourselves that we have consumed.
Ben Nardolilli is a writer from Arlington, VA. His work has appeared in Perigee, The Oklahoma Review, Hawk and Handsaw, Heroin Love Songs, Farmhouse Magazine, The Maynard, Elimae, The Houston Literary Review and Quail Bell Magazine. He maintains a blog at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com.