amy rea
“You can drink it fast, you can drink it slow –
but the lips have gotta touch the toe.”
It’s a singular calling,
administering the toe
for the sacrament
of the Sourtoe Cocktail.
Rooted in a rum runner’s
amputated frostbitten digit,
necrotized in forbidden liquor,
before Captain Dick discovered it
and created the rite,
the Yukon equivalent of kissing
the Blarney Stone.
I change the salt
weekly, tenderly enshrouding
the talisman in its
monstrance
until it is summoned
paired, per Yukon Health,
with an 80-proof pour of the pilgrim’s pleasure:
whiskey, rum, tequila, or hearken back
to Captain Dick and go with Yukon Jack.
Tip your head,
sip with care,
until the toe kisses
your lips –
And I can
restore it to its
place of honor, its
reliquary.
***
Amy Rea is a writer with credits in Homestead Review, Typishly, Bacopa Literary Review, and Picaroon Poetry, among others. She is a long-time Minnesota resident with a fondness for the dark side of things.