In a bar at lunchtime....

Whiskeys poured with icey showers,
the vice machine, chugs on for hours.
Sealed in brew and wide glass froth,
sticking to a surface
bar flies feast off.

Wine lunch girls flirtate aggression
to the new bar boy,
to teach him a lesson.

The redundant and the retirees
sit on the terrace, having a wheeze.
An awkward couple
out on a date
he  regrets,
she wished she was late.

All aboard the vice machine!
All aboard the vice machine!

Drink and drink
not to stop,
Until you have no more
cash to drop.
They’ll then turf you out,
But kindly say;
No more for you-
‘til next payday.