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Fountain : Liquor Bottle Shrines


Intoxicated and driven,
Staggering to a higher purpose where they buy their souls
Meeting with their Maker as they peak and overflow
Seeing all these empty faces file in and out in dance to the tune 
No need to protect the treasure if it stifles their zenith
In and out of bodies they seem to leave
No flow from the fountain from which they drink
Stagnant, waiting to satisfy their insatiable thirst
With unimaginable haste gulping from the core as if a first encounter with an 
Dripping down the contours of the mouth from the aggression
‘Drop off the gratitude before leaving the shrine’
The unholy water whispers after it quenches

Dressed in robes of fine cotton another traveler enters
With such poise and dominance that leaves the ground shaken
Unwrapping the cloth from the perfect curves 
Ready to take a sip and maybe indulge
Let loose and even contain some in the silver chalice
Slowly ...steady does it
Starting off with a lick then a slurp out of impulse
As if tasting the finest wine making sure not to miss a drop
For the water it is a forever ago once forgotten
The delicacy
Hand upon lips to wipe away the resistant drops
The evidence of true of the luxury that should have never been
The water forgets
Until he leaves a fine too hefty even for indulgence

Eyes blood shot and teary from the wind
With the force of a hurricane marching towards emancipation
There is a need to irrigate the death 
Ripples can be seen in the water while the typhoon swallows
It is an impact so strong that everything else is rendered inert
There is a spilling and maybe even a leaking
A time out should be called for the forces that are to repair
It is not a damage alien 
Maybe add some yeast and watch it ferment
Sprinkle perfume and delude the nostrils of the parched
A measure necessary for the uplifting of all spirits

Nickels and dimes left in the fountain as the swagger out with satisfaction
Maybe tomorrow will be a good day to experience the bliss
Yet again and then maybe again and again
 An ephemeral source that should be exploited
Expiration is imminent and thirst is persistent
Until they stumble upon another gift of the rain
They will drink
Till drink is no more...




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