Weekly Sip: Meet Mariella

Introducing the sweetest scandal in the midwest.

The Weekly Sip shares poetry tied to The Oasis, a dubious little dive bar in the midwest. Enjoy weekly song recommendations, drink recipes, and poems - all pairing together less like a fine wine with Brie and more like a cheap shot of bourbon with stale peanuts. Cheers!

Photo by Vladimir Konoplev via Pexel

Song recommendation:
“Tiny Dancer” - Elton John

The Oasis is nearing its closing time. In the next few weeks the late shift ends and the patrons make their way home. Before the open sign turns to closed, I’m introducing a character I’ve been saving for the right moment.

Poems about Mariella are scribbled in my notepads from the last several years, but the work never quite seems finished. Her character in the poetry collection was the catalyst for the book; as much as I tried to paint Mariella in a poem I needed more space. More room on the page to tell her story. While I wrap up her teaser chapter I’ll share in a few weeks, it feels fitting that this week’s sip shares her namesake poem along with a bonus pour.

Drink pairing: Kentucky Sweet Tea

Next week will be the final poem for the Weekly Sip and will share the collection in its entirety. However, a new poem or teaser chapter will likely find its way into your inbox every now and again. To celebrate the sweetest scandal in the midwest, we’re indulging in a Kentucky Sweet Tea. Cheers, friends.

Kentucky Sweet Tea

• 2 oz. Kentucky bourbon

• 2 oz. brewed tea

• 1 tablespoon honey

• Lemon

*Pour two ounces of hot tea to bottom of highball glass. Add honey and stir. While tea is cooling, cut two lemon wedges. Squeeze juice of one wedge into glass. Fill with ice, add bourbon and stir. Garnish with remaining lemon wedge.

---

Mariella

Heartland sunset bleeds
into dusky night. The witching hour
for blue collar plight.

Tucked on Main Street
behind closed doors, whiskey drenched secrets
settle into cracks on the floor.

Through ribbons of smoke
music plays. Tiny waitress hums along
with Elton John, she picks up her tray.

Delicate hands balance vices
with country grace. Barflys often remind her
she’s too good for this place.

Cue balls click, cadence
for her steps. Crooked smile
hides pain unkempt.

Corners are dark and deep
in small town bars; the past a fingerprint,
impossible to see but never far.

---

Amen

Jesus finds me
inside a whiskey bottle

While the sun creeps
in the morning sky

Hallelujahs  
in the dew

Sunday sermon
on a hillside

My fingers wrap
round the neck of my Bible

Peace comes to me
Peace in belief

Twilight noises
lullabies in disguise

Hymns from the Earth 
Hymns from the trees

---