Ode to Kofola

Please don't take me too seriously. I don't. After all, I'm as ridiculous as they come. A person of no consequence. Isn't that how the narrator in Dostoyevsky's Notes from Underground describes himself? I'm not certain. But here's something he did say: “Talking nonsense is the sole privilege mankind possesses over the other organisms. It's by talking nonsense that one gets to the truth! I talk nonsense, therefore I'm human.”

On that note I present you with...

Ode to Kofola

Sweet-and-sour child of Opava,

Neither coffee nor Coca-cola.

Syrup of the Nation,

You've passed through many hands,

Yet you remain tasty and refreshing

As you did back in 1960.

How do you do it, Kofola?

You have less sugar than Coke or Pepsi,

But more caffeine.

You are the soda pop Queen!

Plus you got that unexpected zing

Of citrus. 

Is that what it is?

Carbonated caramel caress,

Your bubbles dance on my tongue

Like children in the sun.

And I am in bliss.

The End