Ode To Nestea Iced Tea From The Soda Machine

            You come out not-cold-enough with a weird miniature layer of foam that makes me question the cleanliness of the soda machine’s innards. When you’re in my pint glass and I hold you up to the light, you have the amber glow of watered down maple syrup. Your origins are dubious. You don’t need an expiration date because chemically, you’ll never go bad. You’re too wishy-washy to leave a lasting impression on my taste buds and you make my stomach feel like a simmering cauldron of witches’ secret potion. And yet I love you so right now, I love you so!