I don't know what I'm drinking

I don't know what I'm getting when I open up a drink;

it may be filtered water with some shrimp to make it pink.

Or maybe it is fizzy, with a touch of caffeine zing --

or enough fermented hooch to let my eardrums ring.

I have to spend an hour reading labels just to find

something wet that don't contain ripe pecorino rind.

With ginseng and majoram, it is all an herbal brew

that doesn't quench my thirst at all but almost makes me spew!

I just want Coke to be a Coke, and lemonade to be

pure and simple -- not defiled with crushed sweet cicely.

Give me back my fountain drink, corn syrupy and mild,

and stick your darn kombucha where the sun has never smiled!