When I Met Vodka
Fiery vodka
rushed down my throat and played jump
rope in my stomach.
A thousand tiny
bumble bees attack my taste
buds, My mind spinning.
👁 5💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.