Bar Glass

by Anthony M   Jun 23, 2010


Wet, ice cold, sweating profusely
my pals subjected to the same fate
another trip to the blistered thirsty lips
of a haggard man, aiding his inebriety.

My latest owner slams me down
onto the hard lacquered, well worn bar.
Another round! he proudly proclaims
jukebox wails in the background.

I envy those snobs living quietly
in a private, mirrored, cherry wood bar
proudly wearing their engraved labels
rubbing elbows with high society.

Life is short and cruel in this working class
but we're entertained by great tragic comedy
a tireless stream of drunks and the odd poet
but I can't complain, after all, I'm only a bar glass.

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Latest Comments

  • 13 years ago

    by Sourav

    This is a very good write. The emotion and the thoughtfulness of this poem is touchy. Liked it.

  • 13 years ago

    by NightFlyer

    Very interesting perspective of society from the eyes of a bar glass. A neat poem!

  • 13 years ago

    by Courageous Dreamer

    I agree very original, If I were you I wouldn't give away what you were talking about in the title, it's more exciting to have it as a mystery & then reveal it at the end like you have . Just a thought. Awesome write though!

  • 13 years ago

    by Jad

    Unique. I really liked how you gave voice to a glass. I enjoyed reading it. Good job and keep writing.

  • 13 years ago

    by Italian Stallion

    Nice write, I fully enjoyed reading this piece. Keep up the wonderful work!

    - Joe

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