Soda Mixing
by Jason Reid


A kid who can’t decide — that’s what you are —
At heart; The kid is limited in mix —
The soda fountain has few tastes to jar,
But few flavors suffice to teach the tricks;
Dark cola drowns light; lids hide but can’t fix
The secret-new lasts its moment, then strains
The taste — all shall be emptied down the drains.


There’s power in promise and promise in power;
Above all, that’s what soda mixing taught:
In you, indecision began to flower.
When almost any one thing can be bought,
The last entertainment left is what you wrought.
And I’ll confess: it’s fun to sip your blend
Of pride-poised love and hate — a poison thought
I can’t dispel; you’ve cast your spell on end;
I dive right in; like acid on skin, let it rend.


I know not why I need no why; I now
Find myself hating the known, tasting bone —
I do not want to chew; I’ll take a vow:
I’ll break my jaw, sip through straw alone —
Carve these words like sweetheart names in stone:
Let the flavors fall in mottled unison,
Fizzle — vestal vitiation of vision.



I am a law student living in Washington D.C. My twitter is @Jason__Reid