by Jordan Trethewey

“[W]e would never meet in mutual old / Age to drink a beer and declare our love.”

-Alicia Ostriker, Encountering the Dead

If your gout is gone, might we

tip a craft ale, Dad? This would

always activate it, force you to never

let a drop past your lips to meet

hard toes ready to explode in

agony. We could arrive at mutual

agreement on ginger ale, despite old

grudges over debilitating soda. Age-

old argument. Let’s not clink mugs to

that. Let’s partake of this drink.

One last sip with a

tolerance reduced by time. Beer—

beverage born of stubborn survival, and

with this one drink, let there be willingness to declare

rivalries dead. Just long enough to let our

guards down. Admit to broader love.

Click here to read Jordan’s bio.

Previous
Previous

disregard it

Next
Next

[when a cactus comes undone,]