Tag Archives: gin

Some Gin Ingredients by Stephen Lindow

GIN INGREDIENTS III

 

From China? Eye of Licorice you come. A taste bud like a mermaid is mere opinion. When you’re away from me—it’s Xanadu. You are stag, a leader of somersault for the co-efficient of wishful thinking. Your ways lack a roof east towards miscellany. Glisten if you are conscious of light sleeping in plants. I’m going to draw just enough breath for honesty: a wildcat soon vomits my silhouette on a snowbank. I am unbeheadable. Carving knife sweeter than sloth gains among poison ivy ajar.

 

GIN INGREDIENTS V

 

Sweet Achille’s tendon! Iris Root from Mongolia! Fixative short-circuiting the nasal, you crawl up a burning staircase littered with snakes without registering 1/16th of death’s arrow collection. In an interlude b/w the sound of chopping firewood, I wish ghosts were more serious than I thought. Your hamstring is improperganda [sic]for oxtail ragout. Do not attempt in your swim across Horse Neck Straits: Goldilocks? Delicious armpits in silkiness grows the anvil and puts

us in a heart to aim by. A museum is founded for lightning.

 

GIN INGREDIENTS VIII

 

Dastardly hemoglobin of Cubeb Berries from Java! You allow us to speak fluent fluent, disagreeing by example—or not. While whistling demonic soundtracks from a tool shed, astronauts return half as strong as they were when they left. Irony fizzles like the isotopes in forgiveness. You have us stripe ourselves in coral snake colors. When you steal from my breath: a rabid knucklehead in arrears threatens the aftermath of all this. For people twelve and older, ask your doctor.

 

GIN INGREDIENTS X

 

Rasia Bark from Indo-China I cannot come clean with you. The time signature of your ingredient is 35% of your vagina. Fate finds a way to butt in the front of the line before vanity thinks cut in. Linguistic osmosis is a long list of tigers ready for our adoption whose many teeth will come to fit you. Did you walk to work or bring your lunch? Remain unto you the inconsiderate opinions of those who have done nothing to become bitter in their expectations of your talent. Double-navel rabbit

under the backlight cotillion.

 

Stephen Lindow

Advertisements
Tagged , , , , , ,
Advertisements