Cauldron & Drink (poem)

1280px-gundestrup_cauldron

CAULDRON & DRINK

They love their honey and they love the vine,
the wine and beer they engender with fire
and the altered world each takes them to.

They name their vessels like newborns, they name
their goblets and flagons and mixing bowls
and give titles to their cauldrons, those cornucopias

of bronze or clay or silver, a few or
a few hundred gallons deep for meaningful
intoxication and the huge feast,

faces beaten into the metal sheets
polished with running honey and mead and wine:
the gorgon or the boar or the winged deer

or the antlered god, legs crossed, the animal
master with serpent in hand and surrounded
by canine and feline and stag – and so

take a long drink and go for some outsized
strength, go for some feat of appetite and bragging:
drown your faces in grapes, drench your faces in gold.


 

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