Club Soda (a Poem)

Mouth.
Dry,
parched and 
unstimulated.

Not a cold 
can to be found, nor
a warm one.
To be chilled.

Sodium, water, See?
Oh too much
time spent wanting
a way 
to clear it.

Untouched by taste,
pure and 
cool.
Comfort in the shape
of cylinder.

s/Anxiety/Caffeine.
s/Boredom/Depression.
s/Pengiun/Salad.
Break.

The dry 
taste
of the north.
Once proud,
absent now.

maybe it will be 
Here
Tomorrow.

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