Not my ass-pi-rations but close enough to suggest
vodka complements toothpaste & best as a mouth
wash; there you’ve been caring enough to make it
an excuse for that hinted taint of evidence & when
you’re caught out your bonafides remain intact; its
vodka isn’t it; nah mouthwash you reply, hinting of
largesse normally unobtainable unless the minted
overtones come from a tube of toothbrush gel
So what’s with the decadence then; mellowing, or
a rage against the dying of the light - more a flight
of fantasy & one, I contend, long overdue; do you
remember when the waking ache could only be in
part dispelled with gargled concoction nonsenses
erasing undiluted vodkas of the previous evening
© 21 August 2014, I. D. Carswell
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