Burn After Rationing
—a poem forged in scarcity and served with smoke
The shelves were bare, the sky was grey,
The world had bartered sense away.
But in your flask, a flame remained—
A proof that couldn’t be contained.
You struck the match with calloused thumb,
And poured the rum like beating drum.
Overproof, a molten prayer,
To warm the ghosts that starved in there.
The lime came sharp, the cinnamon sweet,
A memory dressed up in heat.
Then ginger beer began to rise—
A fizz like static, full of lies.
No garnish graced this final rite,
No mint, no straw, no twist of light.
Just hands wrapped ‘round the metal cup—
And silence as the world drank up.
📜 Burn After Rationing – The Recipe
- 1.5 oz Overproof Rum
- .5 oz Fresh Lime Juice
- .5 oz Cinnamon Syrup
- Top with: Ginger Beer
- Garnish: None. Let the fire speak.
Instructions:
Build in a highball or tin cup over ice.
Stir like you’re trying not to remember.
Serve to comrades or strangers with equal suspicion.
Ideal for post-siege campfires, ration card reunions, or to toast the day the ration lines finally vanished—along with everything else.