Gin & Sonnet

1 part gin. 1 part vermouth. 1 part Campari.

It is the bitterest dream. We announce
Ourselves down sluice rush and sip pine needles
Through an orange sieve. Take my arm through
The vista of red drapery where red
Chairs get us there through candlelight. An ounce
Of snowfall as the glass empties a riddle:
Whether life be sweet, or bitter, we do
Our best to enjoy the sipping from bed
To bed. Drink up the sap from a tree’s bones.
It’s rainwater doused with vanilla, clove,
Anise and the rose of orange. This one
Woos me out the room, sucks into love.


Each month a contemporary poet presents three poems and one personal essay in which food is consumed, passed over, or reckoned with. Sean is our poet for May, 2014.


Sean Singer was born in Mexico in 1974. His first book Discography won the Yale Series of Younger Poets Prize, and the Norma Farber First Book Award from the Poetry Society of America. His second book, Honey & Smoke, is forthcoming from Eyewear Publishing in 2015.

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