The Portland Project part 2: Review: Foundation Brewing Company | Blaze Belgian IPA

An escort
Rich, golden hair
A soft smile
Whisked off
Into the city night
Street
light
strobe
Electrocardiogram
Still alive
With
Each
Pulsing
Flash
Electrocardiogram
Is hardly poetic
But
In the grand scheme
Of things
Fuck off
Move a little closer
In the back seat
Of the stretch limousine
A Lincoln
I believe
But what the hell do they do with these things?

Her skin smells of juniper
Hair of cheap bubblegum
Clearly her clients have not been
Paying
Well
I found myself bohemian
Gliding across the leather
She was effervescent
Quiet, yet somehow loquacious
Accented with a tinge of French
By way of Belgium
Mildly exotic
Vaguely romantic
Like TV dinners
That aluminum life
Is all competition
Like that of the Big Apple
When you buy tin.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
SHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTT

Brushing slightly
Her perfume emerges
More nutmeg than clove
More peach than pear
If only I could bare myself
Bare to her
But to touch is
Prohibited

To taste
I can only imagine

Grapefruit skin
Spice of a complicated kind
Bittersweet
Mango,
A kiss of jasmine,
But a kiss I ain’t having
Honey and everything sweet
With a dry sense of humor
To boot
Me from the car when the evening ends.

This Pretty Woman
Is no
Julia
Roberts
Everything
Would
Have been
Great
If
The cap
Was
Tightly
Fastened
To the
Lips
Of the bottle
Flat
As the day
I was born.

I’m literally screaming this diatribe at the brewery.

I’m “escorted” from the premises.

Man, I never should have watched Pretty Woman

Whatever, Richard Gere.

You’re not my dad.
*8.0 out of 10*

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