intense . . . to begin with, belayed by hours
hewn soliloquy through obverse platitudes
benign, betrayal among friends, in grounds
of open mouths, a kraken of tongues regale
upon which bar the cocktails finally arrived
The night is warm and her flowers in bloom
A chance to dispatch our covid’d gloom;
Old friends together, our drinks too well known
A chance to catch up instead of alone.
Each chair is placed at the distance proscribed
And each wears a mask as our hostess advised,
Surely, covid here has no chance to spread,
Though no one can hear a word that is said.
Smelled of orange, dense wet woods and musk.
Piercing bright blue steady eyes
Looked up theirs
Constrainted gaze upon his joyful face
So pleasant and entertaining
The Fro with the Negroni
His golden poodle alfro welcoming the bright sun
Stylish shoes, suits; a well groomed homosapian.
He took to the heat by going to the sea
And slept in the sand.
He's not just any man
A certain kind of taste
He sits in clubs and at hotels
Sippin' whiskey and cocktails
The Fro with the Negroni.
Kept mostly to his thoughts
Letting majority of others talk
A man of mystery
The Fro sippin' Negroni
Steady hands like the Drum King
Life of any party
Always a smile on his face
This stylin' man
With the golden Fro
Drinking a Negroni
Scaling the heights of 5 inch disco heels,
I stood upon my red plaid platform shoes.
I surveyed the room.
It was still a bit early, the fashionably late set
had not yet arrived.
They would be greeted by a brand new light show.
Timed to the undulating beat, paired with the
smoldering mist of dry ice,
the stage was set.
Pulses raced to the unrelenting hammer
of the tune du jour.
Tonight could be the night!
Cocktails and conquests collide.
Such was the scene in the seventies.
A favorite club, few responsibilities,
and unyielding desire, created a magical era.
Hand me a Singapore Sling and I’ll show you
a Love Hangover!
3/7/18
Line Gauthier
Where were you in the 70’s
Cocktails and Coffee
Two fabulous things
One makes you giddy and
One makes you sing
Which one is which
A person might say
Why, whichever one
You may drink on this day
Cocktails and Coffee
A pair to be sure
Through all kinds of trials
They will help you endure
As long as you’re temperate
You will remain friends
A little each day
Is what I recommend
We too have champagnes
champagnes against diseases
champagnes of dead drugs
things dangerous but fit somehow
probably for a slow something
We too have cocktails in plenty
cocktails of dead body covers
cocktails of dead shirts, shoes, bras
dead, buried, resurrected for us
probably for a slow something
Champagnes, cocktails
fake, duplicate, cheap for charities
second hand, third hand, last hand
all stretch their legs towards Africa
probably for a slow something
How can the originals be here?
industries driven underground
all roads point towards somewhere
all railways run towards somewhere
all telephones ring via somewhere
Things undesirably desirable
with foreign ghosts hovering
pile up as champagnes, cocktails
here in the land of Africa
COCKTAILS FOR ONE
Opening the kitchen cabinet for a morning cocktail, line em up in a row
one two three four five on the counter as the smell of am coffee brews.
Down the hatch they go, five for breakfast, two with lunch, one more
for dinner and two at bed time, three cheers for me whomever I used to be.
Debbie Mills Kelly
11/17/12
Cocktails at Seven
Stand I
grinning like a second-rate
comedian, conversation wafting
over and about my see-through
discomfort.
Dancing tongues skip
subject-to-subject, inoculating
lulls like EMT’s
ready with the paddles.
I am here
next to my wishing star
on the brink of coming in
on a double dutch jump.
Kathryn McL. Collins
©November 8, 2011
Freedom comes from the one who left..
and I beckon the audience who stands before me,
and I am standing here in the deepest ocean ,
can you see me ,
I will never drown,
I am the power you tried to sustain,
and I...
turn my back on you as you call my name ,
and I ask my audience can they keep up with me?
who will be my next intention?
for I am a virgin to love,
a whore to life ,
come share my leather secrets,
can you get past my disguise ?
I dare you to try !
Shattered glass might scar you left from broken hearts
but I can mend you ,
If you can stand with me in my ocean
if you can catch me
if you can keep me
blood and bone
and don't forget sweat
swallow me
do you see me ?
As I stand here bare...
scared...
empty...
power..
My audience...
written -Amy Everett
9-29-08