Dinner with her ex
New-fangled fancy chilli-vinegar bottles,
I have to say in my defence,
my absolutely necessarily,
absolutely completely deliciously,
can - almost, in a certain seductive light I swear,
be virtually visually indistinguishable from red wine.
But try telling that amid his histrionic spurting, gagging,
the frantic back-slapping, ruined tablecloth, her
'I'll deal with you later' glancing glares, and me
wondering when I'll be sufficiently sober to care.
Copyright © Peadar O'Donoghue 2012