by Michael C. Keith
Our host declares the party started
Toasting all with a tequila shot
Glasses are salted and then saluted
Everyone gulps and lungs grow hot
*
Another! he wails as we all recover
This is for all who bare their asses
We drink his spirits with feigned abandon
As he flits about refilling our glasses
*
Raise them to sin and all that is nasty
Declares our swaggering compère
Drink up until you exceed all limits
To which he adds, forsake your fear
*
Again he pours more liquid deceptions
Eyeing each guest with lustful intent
You can handle another drink for certain
Says he, waiting as decorum is soon spent
*
My love weaves and leans on another
Although I stand within her reach
She presses her body against his chest
And there commits a hurtful breach
*
As she appears about to fall unconscious
Our party-giver exclaims: She’s really high!
He declares it best she rest before we leave
Come this way, he says, hand on her thigh
*
We lay her limp body upon his full bed
Where other drunks have been consigned
Come have another drink my friend
Offers he, with lascivious design
*
The room tilts sharply as I clutch the table
Envisioning her naked inside the pile
In sultry darkness where she lets passions flow
While plotting excuses for future denial
Category: Poetry