I saw my friend a couple bubbles to the upper left

Rising faster than the rest of us,

A few fluid ounces higher than at which I float right now,

With a skyline view of the rapidly decreasing culture of

Bubbles below.


And I mourn her morbid fate,

And I mourn the loss of a friend,

And I mourn this prodigious, unpredicted holocaust

In which we found ourselves.


See, there are two ways this could have gone down.


Seal is cracked, cap released, a few unfortunate bubbles sacrificed to the air above, and consumption is immediate, allowing us to fulfill our destiny as beings of carbonation.


Seal     is         cracked,          cap      released,         and     open   bottle  is         left      stranded,        without           a          roof     above  its        head.


And not a few of us are sacrificed,

But all are killed by means of



And your negligence to your beverage.


Do not remind me of my imminent mortality.

Do not remind me of my apparent lifelessness.

Do not remind me of the nine quarters you scraped up to

Earn my possession.


Allow me to do what I was meant to do,

And get to gulping.

Before all of us bubbles are gone,

And you will pour our remains down the sink.

Because no one wants to drink a stale drink.