Rocks glass fragmenting into stars & stars
Of light bending refracted around
The cool bottom pattern to grip, big tip
Filled & color shifting, blind clink
Reminds you of bars filled with thick hope
Last chance booze joints making money
On basement poker & shorting the drinks
And every drink is served in a glass flattened
With finger holds & fierce desire
To pour another ‘cause you just ordered
Disorder in your tiny fifth poured
From the pocket of your navy blue jacket
Just one good business suit pressed
And without holes & the thing alive
Still on your brain as you press
The glass against your lips, shut your eyes
For the things you’ve written off
Given up on like the backstory memories you
Thought you’d reconciled & you wish her
Or the curve of your circle filled with whiskey
Were the hot heart of a goodnight kiss
© Adam Bresson
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