POEM - The Only Drink that Matters

This could be seen as an advertisement
Or perhaps an endorsement
For a land that must be experienced
At least once in a lifetime
The reward is well worth the initial shock

There is this magical land 
In the cheesy backwaters 
Of north east South Carolina
You can’t help but find it 
Just one wrong turn 
Finds you South of the Border

A land forgotten by time and good taste
Where the kitsch flows free
In a flooding fiesta of bright colors
While every Hispano-American related pun

Screams from billboards and postcards

And store names and knick-knacks

And anywhere else it can be printed, painted or posted

This menagerie, however, is only a backdrop

A multi-hued distraction

On the path to Nirvana

From this place ambrosia flows

In spicy amber waves of bliss

It enlivens and awakes in all

A desire for greatness

A feeling of contentment

And an attitude of thanks

In just the first taste of tonic

It is the legendary Blenheim of which I speak

A ginger ale worthy of Valhalla or Olympus

It flows onto the tongue like liquid gold

And then burns through your nasal cavity

Like the breath of a raging dragon

Who has just consumed ginger laden boats

Off the shore of India

And that is the mellow bottle of the gold top

Reach for the dark pink top and the game changes

Now it is two dragons and a chimera

With each sip raging through the nose

Followed by convulsing sneezes

Which inflict third degree burns

On everyone and everything around you

Ahhh! Refreshing!