The Clink of Swirled Ice - Jan 15 2024

 

The Clink of Swirled Ice

Jan 15 2024

The ever-present trolley

of whiskey bottles

ready mixers

perfectly frozen ice;

cocktail shaker,

sturdy tumblers,

wedges of lemon and lime.

Old movies

when liberal drinks are poured

in penthouse apartments

and wood-panelled suites,

the crummy office

where a fast-talking gumshoe holds court.

Straight Scotch

downed in a single gulp.

An endless supply of liquor

yet no one's ever drunk.

An elegant touch.

An obligatory act

of hospitality.

Something to do with their hands.

Or perhaps, just a lazy movie clichè.

Was life really like that?

Why do we imagine a past

so different than now?

When all I have

in some kitchen cupboard

are a few skunky beers,

a bottle of twist-top wine,

and some industrial vodka

that's hardly been touched.

No fancy table

under glittering lights.

No bar

behind a mahogany panel.

No generous glasses

of amber liquid,

no clink of swirled ice.

No square-jawed men

offering swooning starlets

a tonic for the betrayal.

No executive office

with a well-stocked trolley of booze.

No street-smart detective

with a bootleg bottle

in the bottom drawer of his desk.

We are modern Puritans;

clean-living

and politically correct.