The Foundry

They wondered why the fruit had been forbidden:
It taught them nothing new. They hid their pride,
But did not listen much when they were chidden:
They knew exactly what to do outside.

Wystan Hugh Auden
They Wondered Why The Fruit Had Been Forbidden...


Alcohol ignites my tongue, unfetters what propriety and moral code would hold back, and sets lips to claim what truth that lie within reach. My heart flutters against the cage of my breast, and find myself caught against the bars.

Alcohol burns my throat in its headlong course to set fire to my heart, it leaves a wake resonant with the memory of heat. A trajectory though ponderous moves with unassailable Certainty, an accuracy borne only to the Reckless.

But what of consummation, what of destination? The expanse of flesh travelled, the truths woven to secure what flailing quarry, spoor and spur?