The Lost Vodka Infusion

Arizona Nights

The Lost Vodka Infusion - Arizona Nights

Feverishly I worked my craft
Like a mad scientist on the verge of his greatest discovery
I sweated grappling the screaming blender with my left hand
While manhandling a kiwi with my right
I combined fruits and spices, formulating the finest infusion
Pouring in the Goose, I heard the spite of the drunken Chinese girlfriend,
“You’re a loser! Make better drinks.”
“I am trying to concentrate, woman!”
She stepped onto the sofa in the living room
Dancing and singing to a song that existed only in her mind
The final rotation of the blender wound to its finale
With the creation complete, I laughed, summoning the drunken girlfriend to marvel
Fascinated we stared at the fruit and white tea vodka infusion
Bubbling with the icy pleasure’s promise
She thrust her martini glass to me, smiling innocent and sweet
“You bitch.” I scowled
Then poured her the fine concoction

◆◆◆

A weight upon me, hair choking my mouth
The girlfriend, a lead blanket crushing me
Movement brought the crack of spine pinned on the floor
I kissed the top of her head and she emitted something unintelligible
For a moment, I thought she spoke Chinese
But remembered she doesn’t speak Chinese
Struggling to remove the girlfriend heap
Revealed the empty infusion bottle
Bled like a corpse by my head
Such pain!
The masterpiece of mixology
The amazing drunkenness
Gone with the memory of how to make it.

~~~

Written in 2012

I am almost positive this poem is the last free verse I wrote unless I drank too much and saved something in the wrong place on my computer and forgot: a clear possibility from the poem. The inspiration came from a vodka infusion experimentation period while living in Arizona, where I met her coming off a divorce. I cannot remember why I began making infusions, but I made a lot of them. Life went well financially and otherwise at the time, and vodka infusions lined the shelf above the counter of my living room bar. She and I had much fun drinking, which I tried to describe in this snapshot. Perhaps best representing why I discontinued free verse, this poem never fully captured that fun night or her antics. When life began a financial tailspin, and we stopped dating, I wrote little poetry for about three years. Returning to this piece later, I lost the moment’s emotion, seeing it from beyond a breakup and career hardship. Free verse often made writing fast and easy but created many problems returning to improve pieces later, which contributed greatly to not writing it anymore.