Drinking His Choice

She is the last drink

swirling in his glass.

The night proved too short,

his options sparse,

so he was drinking his choice

to the bottom of his glass.

Hell, he isn’t much of a catch either,

married twice, five kids that

don’t speak to him---

a broken down life lived

in a whiskey bottle.

The woman was looking better

through his dizzy eyes,

maybe the two of them

could add up to half of something.

With a gallant stumble he takes her arm

and mutters, “Your place or mine?”

©Susie Clevenger 2012