Saturday’s Last Call


Bartenders slide from end to end as I

Place my arm in a puddle of beer.

It smells like my friends garage which

We used to play drinking games all night long.

The two men next to me give a

Glance as I raise my hand to place an order.

“There isn’t any fluffy drinks here,”

They tell me. The bartender brings me

My Guinness and I walk away chuckled.

We sit at a table and admire the flies

Perched atop their stakes. Swarming from

One pile to the next, until their hunger for

Golden dung has all but run dry.

A man in the corner is flirting with

A girl half his age. She smiles with

Booze lighting up her eyes.

Many more like this will be singing

“Kiss Me I’m Shitfaced” all the way home.

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