Bloody Mary

A spoonful of sugar
Helps the bitter taste
Of reality march
Down my esophagus,
Choking the exits.
I am trapped within myself
And that spoon,
A testament of
American craftmanship,
Poisons me with
It's metallic glare.
My fluids pool
In its shallow bottom,
Barely contained by
The curved sides.
The poorly attached handle
Holds my unfortunate fate.
I've never been an optimist.

-1/30/09