Final Drink - Merlin Flower


The old stick on the wall, withered beyond on the loss.
Fallow piece of paper in the air, hallow as ever.
Fine-the me in the bar. For one final time, one final sip,
that’s all. A pint for further promise:
Clear thinking, steady hands, firm head
and white eyes. But for now,
one more, just.
The final, not yet, but still final now.
Leaving behind times:
of bliss
of contrived creativity
of loud laughter
of escape.
Better things on the way, perhaps.
Mainly from the outside, as always,
ointment for said excoriated life.
Style always misunderstood, birthing
hours of hopelessness, and the descending
perpetual radical is gone.
The last glass, here we go.
Lockdown, but here we go again,
Gain, one more.
Another one, just.

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Merlin Flower is an independent artist and writer.