patronage


Skeleton! The shot glasses!
A warmth of waste, if you please!
The urge is tight for endgame,
the tongue is ripe for disease!
A swallow for tender mercies,
a slug of salty bane,
a tragedy of abstract,
life-rending, bending strain!
An ounce of slushy knockout,
a drop of gremlin’s tears,
a whispering by child
of dear ol’ teddy’s petty fears!
A heavy metal sundown
for the soul of rock ‘n’ roll,
a slice of twice-baked sunlight
for a bridge-forsaken troll!
An epitaph for gargoyle –
go on, man, pour the gravy –
the signal’s off, so this caped bat
is going back to the bat-cavey!
Oh? You say the bottles are empty
and Pepsi’s all you’ve got??
Hey, Dracula, are you aware
that stuff is spirit rot?
Well, the clock says, “no complaining”-
time has talons of oily grip –
and the sorcery’s a dragon
for passage out of this strange trip.
So, barkeep, do your worst –
pour the drinks, man, line ‘em up –
but, hey, buddy, would it have killed ya
to have stocked some 7-Up?

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