Rum & Ruin
—a poem aged in fire and served with dread
The night poured thick, the silence cruel,
He stirred his drink like breaking rules.
A shadowed pour, blackstrap and bold,
Distilled where dreams rot into mold.
Fernet slithered, sharp and deep,
Like secrets murmured in your sleep.
No citrus here, no sugared cheer—
Just bitterness grown old and clear.
A syrup scorched, a past recalled,
A voice once loved now barely called.
Orange oils flicked through the air,
Then vanished like they weren’t there.
He drank. He stared. The glass looked back—
No map, no guide, no way off track.
Just rum, and ruin, rich and stark—
A lighthouse in the endless dark.
📜 Rum & Ruin – The Recipe
- 2 oz Blackstrap Rum
- .5 oz Fernet Branca
- .5 oz Burnt Sugar Syrup
- Garnish: Orange Peel (expressed and discarded like a memory)
Instructions:
Stir slowly over a single large cube—don’t rush the end.
Strain into a lowball glass.
Serve in silence, with a stare that says you’ve seen the fire and stayed to warm your hands.
Perfect for nights when the past knocks twice and the lights flicker for no good reason.