Love at the Wreck
by Heath Houseman, June 30, 2022
"Howard loves at the Wreck
A forty pound clear-plastic bag of pasty-white lard
Near-to-bursting
Propped between him and the mahogany bar rail:
His belly, I realize
Belt buckled a notch or two
(too loose)..."
Strawberry Daiquiri
Your Royal Hiccup
by Drew Pisarra, June 27, 2022
"Having finished the Shiraz, I’m convinced that your father's wife (not necessarily your mother) exposed him (not in the physical sense) to his wife (your brother’s, not your father’s)..."
Broken Bottle
by Mercedes Webb-Pullman, June 26, 2022
"I stumbled on the footpath in the dark, made clumsy by my heavy shopping bags. The concrete’s lifted where I often park; at night I couldn’t see the warning flags. I fell onto my knees..."
Nightlife
by Ben Siegan, June 23, 2022
"I am surrounded by a mosaic of cancerous smoked and fading neon. Dry liquor and spilt ale sticks to the bottom of my boots as I wade through a sea of subculture. The bar serves as a gathering hall for the fashionably bizarre and the chronically lonely. Tribes of self-proclaimed outcasts proudly display their ceremonial garb. I brush up against leather clad alienation and vinyl draped despair..."
A Blind Date
by Rp Verlaine, June 22, 2022
"The bartender says: ‟Your date is already drunk and looks like trouble.‶
She sighs, ‟coke was great till it tore a hole in my nose and my life savings.‶
To the Ex Lover I Ran Into at the Bar
by Katrina Kaye, June 21, 2022
"I don’t remember your stomach hanging over the lip of your jeans as it does as you lean against counter top. The smile you toss at the pretty waitress is all sugar and desperation. And your posture lacks the presence it had when you stood by my side..."
One for the Road, I Guess
by Jennifer Lemming, June 20, 2022
"Yeah, that girl, the one with the swaying breasts in the sequin dress, uh, halter, I dunno,..."
Cool
by Heath Houseman, June 19, 2022
"I always thought it would be cool To sit at the bar with the Devil himself herself itself whatever And hang out with Darkness - face to face with the heart of darkness"
Sitting with the Broken Glass
Tasks for a Utopian Mongrel
by Colin James, June 17, 2022
"Cochlea rum shots are spaced best when in those taught little drums..."
Vintage
by Bruce Meyer, June 15, 2022
"...So, yes, I said something wrong. It wasn’t meant to come out wrong, but Jeannie flew into a rage. She didn’t appreciate that the world through a haze of some really superb alcohol need not make sense. I was just being sociable, and besides Bill raised the topic, whatever it was. I should not have blurted out the first thing that came into my head. It wasn’t funny. It was…I don’t remember..."
Bring More Wine! (Conachlonn)
Buying Liquor on a Bible Belt Tuesday
by Sharon Wright Mitchell, June 11, 2022
"Drinking is not a subject that often finds its way into my writing. Therefore, I am only sending you one poem with this submission. I wrote it after feeling the undeserved judgment of a busybody upon my exit from a liquor store. As I tend to do, I incorporated that negativity into a poem, a literary “f*** you,” which I can now send back into the world like some sort of flame-throwing poetic superhero."
-Sharon Wright Mitchell
Whiskey Bar Remodeled
by Joey Dean Hale, June 9, 2022
How weird boozing in old bars
No longer bars but restaurants
Crème-filled with families and fluorescent
Overhead lighting bright as church
The congregation not my crowd
Booths replaced the sticky oak bar...
In Praise of Hendricks
by Trish Hopkinson, June 8, 2022
A nod to Marge Piercy's In praise of joe:
I love you on the rocks. I love you mixed with orange and bitters. I will even sip you straight.
The Premonition
by Alan McCormick, Author and Jonny Voss, Illustrator, June 6, 2022
I’m not drunk, he said. I’m just feeling tender, like I’m really open and anything might happen. You ought to be careful saying things like that, she replied.
The Proposition
by Leah Mueller, June 4, 2022 If your uncle yammers for hours about alcoholism, and how it fucked up the entire family, you don’t expect him to take you to a dive bar afterward.
MORE COCKTALES
An Ode to the Forgotten Drunk
You Gotta Know When to Hold ‘Em
You Gotta Know When to Hold ‘Em
You Gotta Know When to Hold ‘Em
You Gotta Know When to Hold ‘Em
You Gotta Know When to Hold ‘Em
by Cher Finver, June 1, 2022
Kenny was playing at the Las Vegas Hilton, the bar we stumbled upon was known as Quark's... Continue
My Brother Told Me
You Gotta Know When to Hold ‘Em
My Brother Told Me
by Trish Hopkinson, May 31, 2022
If you want to be good at something when you’re drunk, learn how to do it when you’re drunk... Continue
Chorus of Elixirs
This is Someplace Else
My Brother Told Me
by Bruce E. Whitacre, May 28, 2022
Gin whistles. Whiskey moans. Wine sighs. Tequila squeaks...
Hangover Man
This is Someplace Else
This is Someplace Else
by John Grey, May 19, 2022
Retinas peer out like a crack in my eyelids following a long morning on a good time's third rail— the hangover...
This is Someplace Else
This is Someplace Else
This is Someplace Else
by Rp Verlaine, March 24, 2021
I know the uneven score when she tells me she’s been everywhere she can't return to.
Walk-Crawl-Wasted
In the End, It's Just Me
In the End, It's Just Me
by Stephen House, March 22, 2021
creep exciting bender building plan ride vision drink night take-off alone home load up six pack ale bubbly bottle wine from cask public transport heading city down-town music hipster pub... Continue
In the End, It's Just Me
In the End, It's Just Me
In the End, It's Just Me
by John Grey, December 28, 2020
I could share my side of the argument with everyone in this bar but instead I haul it before the judiciary of my thoughts.
The Twilight Lounge
In the End, It's Just Me
My Fake I.D. - Thank You James Darren Lascot
by Colin Deal, December 25, 2020
When you hit Tule fog, it’s like running into a wall of thick, black soup. It doesn’t start slowly and get gradually worse. It just begins and there is nothing to do...
My Fake I.D. - Thank You James Darren Lascot
My Fake I.D. - Thank You James Darren Lascot
My Fake I.D. - Thank You James Darren Lascot
by Colin Deal, December 2, 2020
There were only a few times in my life when I felt truly free. I think I can count them on one hand... but none quite as grand as the day I received my fake I.D.
Good Time Girl
My Fake I.D. - Thank You James Darren Lascot
Good Time Girl
by Mark Fleisher, November 20, 2020
...I decided to get drunk. Crippling drunk. Not off the 3.2 percent swill that Schlitz and Pabst called beer. I was going to get falling down drunk in a real bar.
Wingman
My Fake I.D. - Thank You James Darren Lascot
Good Time Girl
by Jeff Santosuosso, November 11, 2020
Don’t worry, Tommy, she’ll be back. Look out the window. Rain. See, she left her umbrella... Continue
Barstool
Dumas, pere
Dumas, pere
by Douglas K Currier, October 30, 2020
...but this is work enough, this drinking into oblivion every night only to wake with the sun and have to start all over again...
Dumas, pere
Dumas, pere
Dumas, pere
by Cynthia Strauff Schaub, October 27, 2020
I tilt the decanter to the glass, the heavy one with the scene of downtown Baltimore etched in black and real gold, probably 24 carat. Not to be put into the dishwasher, though I do....
Just a Bar
Dumas, pere
On Top of the World
On Top of the World
Seventeen Miles to Mannington
On Top of the World
by Stephen House, October 22, 2020
It’s about five a.m. and we’ve finally stopped dancing... I’m standing at the bar arm in arm with the big chic and the little dude...
The Art of Solo Drinking
Seventeen Miles to Mannington
Seventeen Miles to Mannington
by Hugh Blanton, October 14, 2020
Those saviors see solitary drinking as a sign that something's gone wrong—the only type of people who would drink alone are the hopelessly addicted, the mail bomb builders, the chronic compulsive masturbators. But then there are those of us who've discovered the joy of drinking alone...
Continue
Seventeen Miles to Mannington
Seventeen Miles to Mannington
Seventeen Miles to Mannington
by Scott D. Vander Ploeg, October 13, 2020
...my workplace was situated in a dry county... No matter what the local leaders mandated, I did not plan on being forced into sobriety.
Continue
Seduction: Mae West Style
A Lonely, Solitary Independence Day
Seduction: Mae West Style
by Marianne Peel, October 12, 2020
I left a trail of red feathers across the barroom floor,slopped with the grease from spilled fried pickles.They decoupage the floor with mosaics of a fragmented boa....
Continue
Old Man in a Straw Hat
A Lonely, Solitary Independence Day
Seduction: Mae West Style
by Hugh Blanton, October 10, 2020
I listened as long as I could - waiting for pause. When I got my pause - I averted my eyes up to the close captioned TV above the liquor bottles...
Continue
A Lonely, Solitary Independence Day
A Lonely, Solitary Independence Day
A Lonely, Solitary Independence Day
by Nicole Taylor , October 6, 2020
At Sam Bond's Bar I was missing my nephew Tom's birthday partywhile drinking double red Ninkasi Believers,while listening to songs with drunk Josey and Valerie,while watching traveling Michael on accordion and shells,and doing the wave dance...
Continue
Sir, I’m So Sorry
Sir, I’m So Sorry
A Lonely, Solitary Independence Day
by Joseph S. Pete, October 5, 2020
At the punk rock dive bar with the heavily graffitied men’s room where the wild-haired woman who reeked of patchouli whirled around from her studious hunch over the jukebox to face me eye-to-eye and lament it didn’t have The Dead Kennedy’s “Too Drunk To Fuck,” they told me I couldn’t order a pitcher of PBR if I were drinking alone...
Continue
Winter Arrives
Sir, I’m So Sorry
Winter Arrives
by Rp Verlaine, October 4, 2020
The bitter cold keeping me indoors as if it were a cop and I a suspicious person of interest...
Continue
Last Orders
Sir, I’m So Sorry
Winter Arrives
by Helen Aitchison, October 3, 2020
The four friends sat round the table, stealing glances at the bar area. It was a gloomy February morning, frost lingered on the ground outside. Inside, there was a bitter chill, even with the heating on full blast.... Continue