The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide

Oak Trees

We all stood in the belly of the oak trees
Feasting on its intestines
I do not know if i was the oak tree
We feast on, brother..?
But assuredly, brother
You were the butcher
That battered my tap root.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

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The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace