Submitted for your approval, one of my most recent works. Enjoy.
A Discussion With an Old Barkeep at the Red Carpet Lounge
You see, this is the depreciation of the martini.
In my parents' generation, and probably yours, as well,
The martini was gin or vodka, along with some vermouth.
White called it the elixir of solitude! Mencken called it
the American invention as perfect as the sonnet.
Well, buh-bye, Shakespeare. You had a good run.
and probably a little of mine,
has muddled it into something
so easy and frivolous and childish and meaningless.
These green juveniles
have taken a quiet drink
that was meditation
in a cocktail glass,
and warped it, distorted it, perverted it.
They order a glass and knock it back and order another
before the glass even hits the bar.
I ask them what brand
they want in their drink,
say it doesn't matter
There's an obsession
sweet fruity colorful,
and utterly irrelevant.
When I make these bastardized brews
I feel I can barely call myself a mixologist.
I feel like a pusher
giving people an empty high,
and barren and vain.
I used to reach for the top shelf
when I made a martini.
Now I go for the rail.
Because of you, and maybe me,
the martini's now some sweet monstrosity.
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