There be a tavern in the town.
Today, will be such a special one.
Sunshine and roses.
Several carnations.

Wedding party, out for fun,
Intermingled with everyday drinkers.
Outside in the sunny weather.
Smokers and drinkers,
Men in blue jeans and eye catching black leathers.

Today, should be a special day.
Women in fanciful fascinators, tight fitting dresses, silky tights.
Dancing on tables.
Long into the night.

A flagon of beer, a bottle of wine.
Discussing everything ironically.
With the rest of the crowd.
Which, one of them is mine or hers or even his.
Their drink that is.

Opinions change as the beverages flow.
Talking regular bull as the drink feeds the flow.
The flow of the conversation that is.
Loudly.
By the end of the night, knowing everyone's biz.
There is no volume control, evening flows on twisted tongues.

Look left, look right, straight in front of you, they're starting a fight.
Noise is enhanced by the wailing of sirens,
Those harpies with hairpins, sat on cheap plastic chairs.
Look out you lot, the blues and twos are coming.
Invading your space, just at that moment you're slapping her face.
Such a disgrace.
Bundled into the back of the van.
Two wrecked wretched women.
One stroppy man.
If nothing else fuels arguments, drink sure as hell can.
(c)LIVVI