rip bison grass vodka1

he used to hold you in his hand
a double-shot stunner
lime-green fluid eyes
dream of every drinking man
the mould of this thick glass
inviting
happily fondling your hour
even JD would bend backwards
to give you the curvaceous stem
of headless Zubrowka Polish flower

but you were shared
by travelling one and all alike
dancing Wisent maid
as you gypsyed on the plains
of western white Ukraine
and without a second thought
to what came out of Zlatogor
he flicked back and downed your power
and numbed his mind
from now and before
the after-cunt of all this pain