Tuesday, February 03, 2009

Three Pub Sonnets 1

I’m sorry that I have to break the news.
But I’m afraid things aren’t as they appear
And seemingly straightforward things confuse.
You do sell spirits, cider, wine and beer
Your customers, upon those fancy stools,
Do moan or boast of bloody conquests past
Or talk about the game and why the rules
Are wrong. But that’s a cocktail in that glass!
Those rows of vintage wines, the skinny latte
Or decaff, the rolling news, the chef from France,
The art by Jean Pierre Antoine de Monet.
And whither the bar billiards? Or the darts?
Perchance you dream. Aye, there’s the ready rub.
You are a trendy wine bar. Not a pub.

2 comments:

wastedpapiers said...

Things have changed for the better though in some ways. Women can get served at the bar now. Theyve done away with all that sawdust on the floor and the spitoons. You dont have to go outside and piss into a old barrel and they dont have those vile glass troughs of pickled eggs on the counter!

C.J.Duffy said...

Michale is right but al least in the old days, having pissed into an old barrel, the publican could then recycle it as Cider!