“You’re drinking sad” a barman observed
one shadow on an empty run of bad luck
eyes dancing around the rim of the glass
seeking good times in bad weather
rain like dollar bits hitting the sidewalk
mood making melancholy as cold as ice
and richer than the dime sitting in pocket
the light seeps in through mirky windows
smoke tarnished a musty gray all told
the wooden bar sits as a barrier to vice
whilst villains of liquor rack up behind
peanuts rest in salted sea stains
spotted along the vanished wooden top
amber lies, sitting in the bottom of a glass
disguising themselves in measures of whisky
bar stools become perches in a row
for these alcoholic dreamers
sitting somewhere way off distant
between today and nowhere at all
the thirst for life drowned in the proof
an empty surround as the bottle runs dry
“You’re drinking sad” the barman repeats
“Life, my friend! Drinking to life, so fill her up”
copyright © Rob Snow 2009
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