the bartender last night was a sham his tie was crooked and I didn’t trust his beard his Manhattan tasted like broken ice tonight is a gift on a Saturday night the barmaid slinks and glides her shake is hard and her mix is stiff so am I
Tag Archives: bar
I cringe at my cocktail
beyond bowtie and bluster the rust of your shallow crust blows through very smoothly done but I’d rather the thing done right stirred not shaken you misshapen fuck
the cursed bar-bound
we wretched few who crowd our over-impulsed and under-nourished selves into tightly compressed spaces with little air and small escape routes with added little chance of survival past age – whatever twenty five, maybe who cares maybe we’ll live forever who knows
London at 3 a.m.
the street is alive whether that life has a point to it or not whether that life is that that which gives back to the creator or that which sucks the absolute energy away from all around it has yet to be seen whether it’s that guy at the party who’s asking everyone for aContinue reading “London at 3 a.m.”
trudging homeward
Saturday morning, five am four grown men on scooters patrol the street apparently for the forces of good while a college-quaffed, patched elbow rich boy drunk waves a fan of torn-off tree branch he inherited from his father it doesn’t matter if your shirt if collared and cost 100 pounds or if it is floatingContinue reading “trudging homeward”
maybe I do have a problem
when you’re walking in the front door in daylight and the barmaid’s putting up the sign outside and you have to check your watch and ask for confirmation that the bar is in fact open and she congratulates you on being the first customer of the day when you sit at the empty bar andContinue reading “maybe I do have a problem”
cocaine
Jesus sometimes you become so blind you just stop noticing how much cocaine is coursing through your favourite bar or your best friend’s party until you begin to see how often the people check their phones of how little people are concerned with sitting down how the postures become more erect, pronounced how the womenContinue reading “cocaine”
music in the war
the Vietnam War has ruined so much good music for me CCR, The Doors – I cannot hear the songs without thinking of bombs dropping skanky Asian prostitutes and yokels abroad smoking cigarettes and talking about Charlie thankfully Zeppelin and Zappa they seemed to stay untainted un-coloured by the jaded brush-strokes held by history’s hand
after hours
she’s the daughter of the bar’s owner I know she doesn’t care for me she doesn’t have to she’s got money she goes to sleep in a five-story house in a quiet neighbourhood the only reasons we find ourselves here are booze and geography her friends all trying to bring her home so that theyContinue reading “after hours”
the noble bar-bound
blessed are the folk of the bar who never settle for table and chair who refuse to seal themselves away from the warm center from which all happiness sprouts we, the blessed few the chosen ones who sit face to face with the object of our desire the reality of our station no fools areContinue reading “the noble bar-bound”
