Beer in America

It began simply enough as
Mesapotamian vegetables in a jar;
Perfect complement to a sausage
Of any size, shape or consistency,
Which, of course, came later;
The beverage of choice
For our founding fathers
Who argued and fought
And drank ale in taverns
That served as obstetric ward
To the good old USA.

Sipping from a six on the bench seat
Of a blue Ford F-150
With a slack-jawed hound dog
Flying his ears in the August wind
Driving down a red dirt road into Alabama
Following the ruts of ancient wagons through Kansas prairie
Or across a dusty trail through eastern Colorado
Toward the white aspens of a Rocky Mountain Spring
And on to the golden beaches of an Orange County Summer.

Welcome.
This is America
And this is the beverage of choice.