Cava, the Brute

Oh Cava,

My calling card

In contracting clients

How they don’t know

Who is courting who

With gifts to ensue

Of boxes of chocolates.

A shard of romance

I’ll take and you take

Whatever we’ve got to give

And we’ll deliberate a dance.

My eyes avert you buying what I sell

Vicariously rain on me aisles of roses

Paying me for runways of matrimony and poses

Trumpeters heralding haranguing hypocrisy

But do I believe in it?

Was there truth in my youth

Upon flutes as they fell

On mirrored platters with pates

Breaking from the bubbling up

And the foam running down

And clanging together as health’s go ‘round.

If I only live once,

Why shouldn’t I want the best?

That- being the great gift of forever in an instance.

Real is a rarity I’m unsure if I’ve seen

Or mistaken for something that many of eyes gleam.

Even if it kills me

Cava, help me remember

What the tale tastes like.

Sweet Cava, feel joy like December.

Sell me your dreams

I’ll take the smoke you give

I sold my soul for my children to live

And for a sandman so it seams.

A few more glasses

I’ll down till it’s spent

Bottoms up to the bottle

So my inward eye might recant

For better or worse;

Does better exist?

Tomorrow, the Brute Cava, I’ll curse

And tomorrow, Cava, I shall remember the lie to resist.