, ,

Close encounters of the slurred kind


Photo by Charlotte May on Pexels.com

The fluted cocktail glass

took a fateful tumble on the bar floor

after third refill of that cocktail

everyone told her not to have

The luminosity of the puddle

led to some strange things “Blowing her mind”

her mates watched on

as she performed the fandango with a streetlight called Bill

Her pals got her home eventually

navigating her stillettos

over craftily curved cobbles

and limestone slabs

Sobering up, made her ponder

how her silver coins had changed

into salty cashew nuts

propped up by the garden gate

singing along to the cats chorus

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Comments (



  1. Peter’s pondering

    Stay away from whatever she is drinking!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. inkdropk

      Just another night on a weekend in any Major city, Peter. I had fun writing this one.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Peter’s pondering

        I steer clear of nights like that Brian!

        Liked by 1 person

  2. pavinganopinion

    Trippy ride, that one!

    Liked by 1 person

%d bloggers like this: